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diff --git a/19025-h/19025-h.htm b/19025-h/19025-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1c836ef --- /dev/null +++ b/19025-h/19025-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5968 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Sweet Little Maid, by Amy E. Blanchard. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center; clear: both;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; + position: absolute; right: 2%; border:1px solid white; + padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; + font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; + color: #444; background-color: #EEE;} + .blockquot {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + hr.full {width:100%; margin: 2em 0em 2em 0em;} + hr.major {width:75%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.minor {width:30%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + .figleft {float: left; text-align: center; margin: 0 .8em 0 0;} + img.border {padding: 0.4em; border: 1px solid;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Sweet Little Maid, by Amy E. Blanchard + +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: A Sweet Little Maid + +Author: Amy E. Blanchard + +Release Date: August 10, 2006 [EBook #19025] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SWEET LITTLE MAID *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class='figcenter' style='width: 325px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<img class='border' src='images/illus-fp.jpg' alt='' title='' width = '325' height = '430'/> +</div> + +<hr class='major' /> + +<table width='450' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='' border='1'> + <col style='width:100%;' /> + <tr> + <td align='center'> + <span style='font-size: 260%;'><br />A SWEET</span><br /> + <span style='font-size: 260%;'>LITTLE MAID</span><br /><br /><br /> + + <span style='font-size: 100%;'>BY</span><br /> + <span style='font-size: 140%;'>AMY E. BLANCHARD</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + + <span style='font-size: 100%;'><i>Author of "Little Miss Oddity," "Little Miss Mouse,"</i></span><br /> + <span style='font-size: 100%;'><i>"Little Sister Anne," "Mistress May," etc.</i></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + + <span style='font-size: 100%;'>NEW YORK</span><br /> + <span style='font-size: 140%;'>HURST & COMPANY</span><br /> + <span style='font-size: 100%;'>PUBLISHERS</span><br /><br /><br /> + </td> + </tr> +</table> + +<hr class='major' /> + +<p class='center'>Copyright, 1899, by<br /><span class="smcap">George W. Jacobs & Co</span></p> + +<hr class='major' /> + +<table summary=''> + <tr> + <td align='center'> + To<br /> + MY DEAR LITTLE GODDAUGHTER<br /> + <b>AGNES BLANCHARD WILLIAMS</b><br /> + I LOVINGLY DEDICATE THIS STORY OF ANOTHER<br /> + SWEET LITTLE MAID + </td></tr> + <tr><td align='right'>A. E. B.</td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class='major' /> + +<h2><a name="Contents" id="Contents"></a>Contents</h2> +<div class="smcap"> +<table border="0" width="400" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<col style="width:10%;" /> +<col style="width:3%;" /> +<col style="width:77%;" /> +<col style="width:10%;" /> +<tr><td align="right"><span style='font-size: smaller'>CHAPTER</span></td><td></td><td></td><td align="right"><span style='font-size:smaller'>PAGE</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">I</td><td></td><td align="left">Dimple and Bubbles</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">II</td><td></td><td align="left">Dolls</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">26</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">III</td><td></td><td align="left">A Quarrel</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">44</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IV</td><td></td><td align="left">Housebreakers</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">62</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">V</td><td></td><td align="left">Rock</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">81</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VI</td><td></td><td align="left">The Tea-Party</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">97</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VII</td><td></td><td align="left">Housekeepers</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">119</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VIII</td><td></td><td align="left">Adrift</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">139</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IX</td><td></td><td align="left">Down Town</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">158</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">X</td><td></td><td align="left">The Picnic</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">177</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XI</td><td></td><td align="left">An Uncle and a Wedding</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">196</a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2><h3>Dimple and Bubbles</h3> +</div> + +<p>"Is yuh asleep, Miss Dimple?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Dimple, drowsily.</p> + +<p>"I'm are."</p> + +<p>"Why, Bubbles," replied Dimple, "if you were asleep you wouldn't be +talking."</p> + +<p>"Folks talks in their sleep sometimes, Miss Dimple," answered Bubbles, +opening her black eyes.</p> + +<p>"Well, maybe they do, but your eyes are open now."</p> + +<p>"I have heerd of people sleepin' with their eyes open," returned +Bubbles, nothing abashed.</p> + +<p>"O, Bubbles, I don't believe it; for that is how to go to sleep; mamma +says, 'shut your eyes and go to sleep,' she never says, 'open your eyes +and go to sleep;' so there!"</p> + +<p>Bubbles sat thoughtfully looking at her toes, having nothing to say when +Dimple brought her mamma into the question.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what, Bubbles," said Dimple,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span> after a moment's pause, +rising from the long grass where the two had been sitting. "Let's play +Indian. You make such a lovely Indian, just like a real one. I am almost +afraid of you when you are painted up, and have feathers in your head."</p> + +<p>Bubbles grinned at the compliment.</p> + +<p>"I will be the white maiden to be captured," said Dimple, as Bubbles +coolly proceeded to take off her frock, displaying a red flannel +petticoat.</p> + +<p>"I'll hunt up the feathers, and you get ready," Dimple went on. "And the +shawl—we must have the striped shawl for a blanket," and, running into +the house, she soon came out with a little striped shawl, and a handful +of stiff feathers. The shawl was arranged over Bubbles' shoulders, and +produced a fine effect, when the feathers were stuck in her head.</p> + +<p>"Now if you could only have the hatchet. You go get it, Bubbles."</p> + +<p>"I dassent," said Bubbles.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, you dare," Dimple said, coaxingly. "I'd go ask mamma, but it is +so hot and I've been in the house once."</p> + +<p>"'Deed, Miss Dimple"—Bubbles began.</p> + +<p>"Don't you 'deed me. I tell you to go and I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span> mean it. I'll send you to +the orphan asylum, if you don't, and I wonder how you will like that; no +more cakes, no more chicken and corn-bread for you, Miss Bubbles. Mush +and milk, miss."</p> + +<p>This dreadful threat had its desired effect, and Bubbles' bare black +legs went scudding through the grass, and were back in a twinkling.</p> + +<p>"Hyah it is," she said. "I was skeered, sho' 'nough."</p> + +<p>"Oh well, you are a goose," said Dimple. "Who ever heard of an Indian +being scared at a hatchet? Now I will go into the woodshed—that is my +house, you know—and you must skulk softly along, and when you get to +the door bang it open with the hatchet, and give a whoop."</p> + +<p>So Dimple went in her house and shut the door, fearfully peeping through +the cracks once in a while, as the terrible foe crept softly nearer and +nearer, then with a terrific yell burst in.</p> + +<p>"Please, Mr. Indian, don't scalp me."</p> + +<p>"Ugh!" said the Indian.</p> + +<p>"What shall I do?" said Dimple. "Make me take off my stockings and +shoes, Bubbles. You know the captives must go barefooted."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ugh!" said the Indian, pointing to Dimple's feet.</p> + +<p>"My shoes and stockings? Well, I will give them to you," and she quickly +took them off. The Indian gravely tied them around his neck, and taking +Dimple by the hand he led her forth in triumph.</p> + +<p>But here a disaster followed, for the captive, thinking it her duty to +struggle, knocked the hatchet out of the Indian's hand, and it fell with +its edge on Dimple's little white foot, making a bad gash.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you've killed me, sure enough," she cried. "Oh, you wicked, wicked +thing!"</p> + +<p>Poor Bubbles cried quite as hard as she, and begged not to be sent to +the orphan asylum.</p> + +<p>"Oh! your mother will whip me," she cried. "I 'spect I ought to be +killed, but 'deed I didn't mean to, Miss Dimple; I wisht it had been my +old black foot."</p> + +<p>"I wish it had," sobbed Dimple. "Oh, I am bleeding all to nothing! Take +me to mamma, Bubbles!"</p> + +<p>Bubbles stooped down and, being a little larger and stronger, managed to +carry her to the house.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span></p> + +<p>Dimple's mamma was horrified when they appeared at her door. Bubbles in +war-paint and feathers, carrying the little barefooted girl, from whose +foot blood was dropping on the floor.</p> + +<p>"What on earth is the matter? Oh, Dimple! Oh, Bubbles! What have you +been doing?"</p> + +<p>But Bubbles was so overcome by terror, and Dimples by the sight of the +blood, that neither could explain till the foot was washed and bandaged.</p> + +<p>Then poor Bubbles flung herself on the floor and begged not to be sent +to the orphan asylum.</p> + +<p>"You ridiculous child," said Dimple's mamma. "Of course you ought to be +careful, but it is not your fault any more than Dimple's. She should not +have sent you for the hatchet. I am very sorry for my little Dimple; it +is not so very serious, but she will not be able to walk for several +days. Next time you want to play Indian, do without a hatchet. Put on +your frock, Bubbles, and go into the kitchen, for I'm sure I heard Sylvy +call you."</p> + +<p>Bubbles went meekly out and Dimple was soon asleep on the sofa.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span></p> + +<p>Bubbles' real name was Barbara. She was the child of a former servant +who went away, leaving her, when she was about five years old, with Mrs. +Dallas; as the mother never came back, and no one could tell of her +whereabouts, Bubbles gradually became a fixture in Dimple's home.</p> + +<p>Dimple, when she was just beginning to talk, tried hard to say Barbara, +but got no nearer to it than Bubbles, and Bubbles the little darkey was +always called.</p> + +<p>Dimple herself was called so from the deep dimple in one cheek. Every +one knew her by her pet name, and most persons forgot that her name ever +was Eleanor.</p> + +<p>She and Bubbles were devoted comrades. Bubbles would cheerfully have let +Dimple walk over her and never forgot to call her <i>Miss</i> Dimple, thereby +expressing her willingness to serve her.</p> + +<p>Dimple was the dearest little girl in the world, but considering Bubbles +her special property, made her do pretty much as she pleased, and her +most dreadful threat was to send her to the orphan asylum.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span></p> + +<p>She had once said, "Mamma, if you hadn't let Bubbles stay here, where +would you have sent her?"</p> + +<p>"To the orphan asylum, I suppose," her mamma answered; and Bubbles, +hearing it, was ever after in mortal terror of the place, for Dimple +gave her a graphic description of it, telling her she would never have +anything to eat but mush and milk.</p> + +<p>Dimple's foot did not get well as fast as she expected, and the little +girl found it rather tiresome to lie on a lounge all day, although her +mamma read to her, and tried to amuse her. Bubbles, too, was as obedient +a nurse as could be, and, because she had been the cause of the +accident, considered it her first and only duty to wait on Dimple.</p> + +<p>"Mamma," said Dimple, "for a colored girl, Bubbles is the nicest I ever +saw; but indeed, I should like a white girl to play with, just for a +change. Couldn't you get me one?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps so," said her mamma. "We will see what can be done."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, little girl," said her papa the next morning. "I am going +away and will not be back<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span> till to-morrow. What shall I bring you? A new +doll?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, please, papa; and papa a white girl if you can get one that is real +nice, something the same kind of girl that I am."</p> + +<p>"A girl like you would be hard to find, I think," said he, laughing, +"but I'll inquire around and see if there is one to be had."</p> + +<p>Bubbles looked very sober all day, and rolled her eyes around at Dimple +in such a reproachful way that finally she said:</p> + +<p>"I know just what you think, Bubbles. You believe I am going to send you +to the orphan asylum and get a white girl, but I am not at all. If I get +a white girl I shall want you all the same, because you will have to +wait on her too."</p> + +<p>Bubbles' face lighted up, as she said,</p> + +<p>"'Deed, cross my heart, Miss Dimple, I didn't fo' sure think yuh was +gwine to send me off, but I tuck and thought yuh was conjurin' up +somethin' agin me."</p> + +<p>"Why, Bubbles, I wouldn't do such a thing, unless you were out and out +bad. It has been such a long day," she said, turning to her mamma. "When +will it be to-morrow?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Dallas drew up a little table, and Bubbles brought Dimple's best +set of dishes, and with a clean cloth spread on first, the dishes were +arranged. Then Bubbles brought in a little dish of chicken, a glass of +jelly, light rolls, little cakes, a pitcher of milk, tea, sugar, and +butter; and then Mrs. Dallas said,</p> + +<p>"We will have our supper together, because papa is away, and Bubbles can +wait on us here."</p> + +<p>Bubbles had disappeared, but presently came back with a bunch of roses, +which she put in the middle of the table.</p> + +<p>"Why, Bubbles, that is quite fine," said Dimple, and she ate her supper +with a relish; after which, the time seemed very short until to-morrow, +for she was soon asleep.</p> + +<p>"I believe this day is long too," she said, toward the afternoon of the +next day. "When will papa come?"</p> + +<p>"Not till six o'clock," replied her mamma. "You must try to be patient, +for I think you will be very glad when he gets here. I have sent Bubbles +for a book, and I will read to you, to pass the time away."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span></p> + +<p>Six o'clock came at last, and soon after Dimple heard her papa's voice +in the hall.</p> + +<p>"Come right up," she heard him say.</p> + +<p>"I do believe he has brought the white girl," she said, clasping her +hands; and, to be sure, when he opened the door, some one was behind +him.</p> + +<p>"This is the nearest like you I could get," he said, and led forward +some one in a grey frock and hat.</p> + +<p>Dimple screamed, "Why, it is Florence. Oh! papa, you didn't say you were +going to auntie's!"</p> + +<p>"No. I wanted to surprise you," he replied. "And I thought your own +cousin ought to be more like you than any one else."</p> + +<p>"Well, I am delighted. You are sure to stay a long, long time, Florence. +Take off your hat and sit right here," she said, moving up on the +lounge. "I never had such a surprise."</p> + +<p>"You forgot I promised a doll, too," said her papa, as he opened a +package. "I thought Florence would like one, so I brought two, as near +alike as if they were cousins," he added.</p> + +<p>"Oh! you preciousest papa," said Dimple; "let me hug you all to pieces. +I do think you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span> are the most delightful man. I don't wonder mamma +married you. When you go down please send Bubbles up here, so I can tell +her I am almost glad she cut my foot, for it is worth it, to have +Florence and a new doll too."</p> + +<p>Bubbles came in beaming.</p> + +<p>"Bubbles," cried Dimple, "see Florence and our new dolls,—and Bubbles, +you shall have one of my old ones,—and Bubbles, when I grow up, you +shall live with me always, because you cut my foot, and you must never, +never think of the orphan asylum again.</p> + +<p>"Now, tell me, Florence," she said, turning to her, "all about your +coming. Didn't you have to get ready in a hurry?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," replied Florence, "and, oh Dimple, I was so glad when +uncle asked mamma and she said 'yes,' and she just packed up my things +in a jiffy, and we stopped at papa's office, and said good-bye to him, +and uncle bought me oranges and papers on the cars, and we didn't seem a +bit long coming."</p> + +<p>"Well, I am too glad," returned Dimple. "Won't we have fun with the +dolls? O, Florence,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span> do eat your supper up here with me instead of going +downstairs."</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Florence, "unless you would rather go down, for uncle +said he would carry you."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Dimple, "but it is more fun to have it up here with my +tea-set, and Bubbles to wait on us."</p> + +<p>So they had their tea upstairs, with the table set by the window, where +the wistaria peeped in to look at them, and a little brown bird, quite +envious, put his head on one side, and stood on the sill a full minute +before he flew away.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I think it is just lovely here," said Florence. "Ever so much nicer +than at our house."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so?" said Dimple, quite pleased. "You have a lovely house, +though, Florence; it is four stories high, and has such beautiful things +in it, and when you look out of the windows there is so much to see, +carriages, and people all dressed up."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and dirty old beggars and ragmen," said Florence, "and nasty, +muddy streets."</p> + +<p>They both laughed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span></p> + +<p>"What cunning little doylies," said Florence. "Who worked the little +figures on them?"</p> + +<p>"Mamma," said Dimple. "Aren't they sweet? She always sends them up with +my supper, one over the milk pitcher, and one over the cake. Do you like +lots of sugar in your tea, Florence?"</p> + +<p>"Two lumps."</p> + +<p>"Only two! Why I like three, and I believe I could take another; mamma +says I have a sweet tooth, but I don't know where it is, for I have put +my tongue on all of them and they all taste alike. Bubbles, go down and +ask mamma if we mayn't have a little teensy-weensy bit more honey, we +are both so hungry."</p> + +<p>Bubbles took the little glass dish, and went off.</p> + +<p>"I wish I had a Bubbles," said Florence. "We have a black man, but I +think a little girl is ever so much nicer; then there is nurse, she +takes us to walk; and then there is Kate, the cook, and Lena, the +chambermaid, they are always fussing and quarreling. I get tired of so +many."</p> + +<p>"We only have Sylvy and Bubbles," said Dimple. "Sylvy is black too; she +is real nice but she will get mad with Bubbles sometimes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span> Bubbles +cleans knives, and runs errands, sets the table, wipes the dishes, and +is a lot of help. You don't know how much she can do, and she learns +something new every little while. Have some more honey, Florence, for +that piece of bread. I never can come out even; sometimes I have to take +more bread for the honey, and then more honey for the bread, till I do +eat so much. Have you finished? I believe I have too."</p> + +<p>"It is <i>so</i> nice here," said Florence, as they settled themselves after +their tea, "just delicious. It is so much pleasanter to see green grass, +and trees, and flowers, than brick walls, and pavements. Do you play out +of doors much?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, all day, nearly; but I haven't since my foot was hurt. I couldn't +run about, and I should have to wait for some one to bring me in; then I +always want to be close to mamma when anything is the matter with me. +Are you that way?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Florence. "Aren't mammas the best thing in the world? I hope +mine doesn't miss me."</p> + +<p>"Now, Florence, don't get homesick, for I shall be distressed if you do. +Let's talk about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span> the dolls. Here comes mamma. +We will ask her what we can dress them in.</p> + +<p>"Mamma, mamma, did you see our beauty dolls? Won't you get out your +reserve bag to-morrow? I have looked over my piece box so much, and it +would be perfectly splendid to have something I had never seen before."</p> + +<p>"What is a reserve bag?" asked Florence.</p> + +<p>"Why, you see," said Dimple, "mamma has a lot of bags, one for silk +pieces, and one for white pieces, and one for pieces like our frocks, +and so on, but the nicest is the one she keeps for occasions, like +Christmas and birthdays and fairs, and there are the prettiest bits of +velvet and silk in it. Mamma, bring out your reserve bag, that is a +lovely blue-eyed mamma," said Dimple, coaxingly.</p> + +<p>"You are very complimentary," said her mamma, laughing. "If you won't +tease or worry me, to-morrow I will bring it out and you can each choose +what you want."</p> + +<p>"Oh! mamma, you are lovelier and more blue-eyed than ever," said Dimple, +"let us both kiss you. We will be good as gold, won't we, Florence?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," said she. "Auntie, you are lovely."</p> + +<p>"I think if you don't go to bed," said Mrs. Dallas, "you will keep me +awake all night with your flattery."</p> + +<p>"Florence is to sleep with me, isn't she, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, and the sooner you go, the sooner it will be to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Well, we will go now. See me ride, Florence," said Dimple, as her mamma +put her in a rocking-chair and pushed the chair along through the door +into Dimple's little blue and white room.</p> + +<p>It was a dear little room, and Dimple, with the help of Bubbles, took +care of it all herself.</p> + +<p>There was a white curtained window around which roses and honeysuckle +grew, and threw their tendrils about in a such a reckless way, that one +or two had made up their minds to live in the room instead of outdoors, +and were climbing around the window sash.</p> + +<p>A little brass bedstead, a mantel with a blue and white lambrequin, a +blue and white toilet set, pretty pictures on the wall, and a small +bookshelf,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span> made a very cozy looking nest for a little girl, and so +Florence thought, who had no room of her own, but slept with an older +sister.</p> + +<p>They were both tired, and even the delightful topic of dolls could not +keep them awake very long, for a half hour later when the moon looked in +on her way across the sky, she saw them both sound asleep, an auburn +head on Florence's pillow, and a yellow one on Dimple's.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2><h3>Dolls</h3> +</div> + +<p>Florence and Dimple were on the back porch where it was always cool in +the morning.</p> + +<p>Bubbles was cleaning knives on the steps, the temptation to watch the +dressing of the dolls being too great to keep her in the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"I declare," said Dimple, "we haven't named them yet."</p> + +<p>"That is so," returned Florence.</p> + +<p>"You take first choice, then," said Dimple. "I shall have to think, for +I've had a Rose and a Violet and a Lily, besides one named Victoria, and +one Aurelia."</p> + +<p>Florence sat still watching Bubbles briskly scouring her knives. "Dear +me," she said, presently, "it's awfully hard. How do you suppose our +mothers found names for us?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! that was easy enough," answered Dimple. "I was named Eleanor after +your mamma, and you were named Florence after mine; but,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span> you see we are +not sisters, so we can't do that. I'll tell you what let's do; you tell +mamma the names you like best, and I will tell her those I like; then +she can write them down and put them in a hat, and we will draw lots for +them."</p> + +<p>"That will be a good plan," said Florence. "She is coming now with the +reserve bag."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Oh! Oh!" they cried, as Mrs. Dallas shook out its contents.</p> + +<p>"Let Florence choose first, dear," said she as Dimple began making dives +at the fluttering ends of silk. "You may each have two pieces."</p> + +<p>Dimple looked a little disappointed; being an only child she was used to +first choice herself, but she yielded with a very good grace.</p> + +<p>Florence finally chose a piece of maroon satin, and another of yellow +brocaded velvet, while Dimple picked out a piece of silk with velvet +stripes of a lovely pink, and another bit of blue silk brocade. "Mamma," +whispered she, "give Bubbles a little piece, if she is black," and so +the brightest bit of scarlet was picked out for Bubbles, who was made +perfectly happy by it.</p> + +<p>"Now, names," exclaimed Dimple, as the rest of the pieces were returned +to the bag. "First<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span> Florence one and then I one. How many, Florence?"</p> + +<p>"Four, I think. Ethel first, for me. No, you choose first, Dimple. I had +first choice in the pieces."</p> + +<p>"No, you're company."</p> + +<p>Being company, Florence took her rights, and Ethel went down.</p> + +<p>"Blanche, for me, mamma," said Dimple.</p> + +<p>"And Celestine for me, auntie."</p> + +<p>"Irene," said Dimple.</p> + +<p>"Geraldine," said Florence.</p> + +<p>"Adele," said Dimple.</p> + +<p>"My last," said Florence. "Rubina."</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a lovely name!" exclaimed Dimple. "If you don't draw it, I +should like it, so I won't say any more till you have drawn."</p> + +<p>The slips were shaken up in a hat, and Florence, with eyes shut, drew +out Celestine.</p> + +<p>"I am glad," she said. "I believe I like that best; it has a sort of a +heavenly sound, and my doll is angelic."</p> + +<p>"Well, mamma, I will take Rubina. You don't care, do you, Florence?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed. I am glad you like it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now they are named, we will dress them."</p> + +<p>"How are you going to dress yours, Dimple?"</p> + +<p>"I think I'll have a skirt of the blue and a waist of the pink. No, the +other way, will look best, because the velvet is thickest, the skirt of +pink and the waist of blue."</p> + +<p>"Well, I will have to make my doll's frock of all the same, with velvet +trimming. Will that look well?"</p> + +<p>"Lovely! What are you going to do with your piece, Bubbles?"</p> + +<p>"Make a overskirt for Floridy Alabamy," said Bubbles, importantly.</p> + +<p>"Who?" said Dimple, with her scissors ready to cut into the pink.</p> + +<p>"Floridy Alabamy," said Bubbles, gravely.</p> + +<p>"What a name!" shrieked Dimple, throwing back her head in a fit of +laughter. "Florence, <i>did</i> you hear? Floridy Alabamy."</p> + +<p>And the girls laughed till the tears ran down their cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Bubbles, you are too ridiculous," said Dimple, while Bubbles pinned her +bit of scarlet on her doll.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span></p> + +<p>Just then Sylvy called her, and she ran off, holding her doll admiringly +at arm's length.</p> + +<p>"She will dress it just like a darkey. You see," said Dimple, "she has a +purple dress on it now; think of that, with a scarlet overskirt; and I +know she will make it a blue waist out of one of my old sash ribbons I +gave her."</p> + +<p>And sure enough, Floridy Alabamy did wear the three colors in triumph.</p> + +<p>"Do you like big or little dolls best?" asked Florence.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Dimple. "I think rather big or real little. Middle +sizes are so hard to dress. They have to have such little fidgety +sleeves and waists. I have two little dolls upstairs, and we can dress +them up next. I believe one of them has an arm off, but it can be +mended. How many dolls have you?"</p> + +<p>"Four, now," answered Florence. "I had five, but Gertrude broke one. +Gertrude is such a mischief, I have to keep all my things locked up. I +hope to goodness they won't let her get at them while I'm away."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you must make a traveling dress for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span> your Celestine. I have a piece +of grey linen that will just do."</p> + +<p>By the time the dinner bell rang, both the dolls were dressed +gorgeously.</p> + +<p>"Aren't they lovely, papa?" said Dimple, as she hobbled out to meet him.</p> + +<p>"Yes; they look like two butterflies," he said, lifting her up, doll and +all.</p> + +<p>"Are you having a good time, Florence? I hope Dimple hasn't pinched or +scratched you yet."</p> + +<p>"Why, papa," said Dimple, looking very much hurt. "Florence will think I +am a regular little cat," but seeing a twinkle in his eyes, she knew he +was only in fun, and was consoled by the kiss he gave her as he put her +in her chair at the table.</p> + +<p>There was a long afternoon before them, and, although Dimple could not +walk very well with her bandaged foot, she managed to get down to her +favorite place, under a big tree, where the grass was long and thick.</p> + +<p>"Now we can play beautifully with our dolls, Florence," she said, "and +have no one to disturb us, for Bubbles doesn't count. She has to be in +the kitchen for a while anyhow."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span></p> + +<p>They had not been out very long before Bubbles came running to them. +"There is a lady and a boy in the house, Miss Dimple," she said, "and +your mamma's a bringin' the boy out hyah."</p> + +<p>"A boy!" said both the girls in horror.</p> + +<p>"Think of it, Florence, a horrid boy! What will we do with him? I can't +run, and boys despise dolls. As for talking, I never could talk to boys. +They shut me up like a clam. I always feel as if they wanted to get +away, and I believe they would if they could," said Dimple in a +disgusted tone.</p> + +<p>But, by this time, Mrs. Dallas had come up to them.</p> + +<p>"This is Rock Hardy, girls," said she. "As Dimple is a little lame, I +brought him out here, rather than take her in the house," and so saying, +she left them. There was a deep silence after they had shaken hands; all +looking rather bashful for a few minutes.</p> + +<p>Finally Rock took courage to say, "What pretty dolls."</p> + +<p>This was encouraging; Florence and Dimple exchanged pleased glances.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you think they are pretty?" asked Dimple. "I thought boys hated +dolls."</p> + +<p>"I don't," said Rock. "I played with them myself for a long time, and I +have one now, but I don't play with it because I like to read better."</p> + +<p>"He <i>is</i> a nice boy," thought the girls.</p> + +<p>"How funny," said Florence. "How came you to play with dolls?"</p> + +<p>"Why, you see, I haven't any brothers and sisters. When I was a little +fellow I used to get so lonely, that my mother dressed a boy doll for +me, and I talked to it and pretended it was another boy."</p> + +<p>"I haven't any brothers, or sisters either," said Dimple, "but Florence +has. I have Bubbles, though. Everybody can't have a Bubbles; she is next +best to a sister, or a cousin."</p> + +<p>"Who is Bubbles?" asked Rock.</p> + +<p>"She is the little colored girl you saw when you came out of the house; +she has lived here ever since I was a baby; she is a year older than I +am; her mother ran off and left her, and she is real nice to play with."</p> + +<p>Dimple was fast getting over her embarrassment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't you go to school?" asked Rock.</p> + +<p>"No, mamma has always taught me at home, but I am going next year. It is +vacation now."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," said Rock, "that is why we came here. We are going to +stay for some time. I like to play with girls. Will you let me come and +play with you sometimes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," said Dimple, in her warm-hearted way. "My foot is nearly +well, and I can soon run about. I think I should like to play with a +nice boy."</p> + +<p>"I hope I'm a nice boy," said Rock, "but I don't know. I suppose +everybody is mean sometimes."</p> + +<p>"I think you look nice," said Dimple, honestly, looking at him from head +to foot.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you say something, Florence?"</p> + +<p>Florence thus appealed to, could say nothing.</p> + +<p>"Florence is my cousin," said Dimple. "She lives in Baltimore and she +came here yesterday."</p> + +<p>"Why, I live in Baltimore," said Rock. "What street do you live on, +Florence?"</p> + +<p>Florence told him, and they found it was in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span> the next street to that on +which Rock lived, so they all began to feel like old friends.</p> + +<p>"If I had my scroll saw here, I could make you each a chair for your +dolls," said Rock. "Maybe my mother will let me send for it. I will ask +her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that would be lovely," said the girls.</p> + +<p>"And I will lend you some of my books to read," said Dimple. "If you +will please hand me that little cane, we will go in and you can choose +them."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you," said Rock. "I shall like to have them, for I like to +read better than to do anything else."</p> + +<p>They all went in and found Rock's mother and Mrs. Dallas in the parlor.</p> + +<p>Dimple told her mamma what they had come for, and her mamma suggested +her taking Rock into the library first, as he might find something there +that he liked.</p> + +<p>So Rock was taken to the bookcase, and found there a book of travels he +had been wanting to read, so he bade them good-bye, with it under his +arm, promising soon to come again.</p> + +<p>Then Dimple and Florence returned to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span> garden where they had left a +colony of grasshoppers imprisoned in a small house built for them out of +bits of wood and bark.</p> + +<p>"Baby Grasshopper has gone," said Florence, in dismay, as she peeped in +to see the prisoners.</p> + +<p>"I knew he would get out; he was so little," returned Dimple. "Let's set +them all free, Florence. We'll pretend that they escaped in the night, +or that peace has been declared."</p> + +<p>"Or that a tornado blew down their prison."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that will be the best. We'll blow real hard, and maybe it will +come down."</p> + +<p>So, with cheeks much puffed out they blew and blew, but without avail, +and finally they picked up their hats and fanned the little bark +structure so vigorously that it toppled over, and the grasshoppers +escaped in every direction, the children laughing to see how quickly +they disappeared.</p> + +<p>They sat there in the grass wondering what to do next when Dimple +exclaimed, "There comes papa with Mr. Coulter,—he's the carpenter, you +know—I wonder what he is going to do. See, Mr. Coulter is measuring the +ground, and papa is explaining something. I can tell by the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span> way he +keeps doing so, with his hand. He always does that when he is +explaining. Help me up, Florence, and let's go over there and see what's +going on. Papa must mean to have something built. I hope it isn't a +fence. No, it can't be that, for it would be too near the other one. +Isn't it funny to watch men talking? They do so many funny things. Mr. +Coulter keeps nodding his head like a horse."</p> + +<p>Florence laughed and they made their way over to where the two men +stood. As soon as they were within speaking distance, Dimple began to +put her questions. "Are you going to build something, papa? What is it? +Please don't say it's a fence, or a—a pig-sty."</p> + +<p>Mr. Coulter chuckled as he went on laying his foot-rule along the +ground.</p> + +<p>"I hope it won't turn into a pig-sty," Mr. Dallas replied, with a smile. +"It won't unless little pigs get into it."</p> + +<p>"Are you going to keep little pigs?" Dimple asked.</p> + +<p>"I didn't say so."</p> + +<p>"Oh, papa, you are so mystiferious. I wish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span> you would tell us all about +it. What are you going to build? Any sort of house?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, one sort of house."</p> + +<p>"What is it to be for?"</p> + +<p>"Little chicks."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" Dimple was quite satisfied. "I see. You need a new hen house. +Isn't the old one big enough? To be sure we don't get very many eggs +just now, for so many of the hens are sitting. Oh, I know, maybe you are +going to build a place like Mr. Lind's, with a—what is that thing? A +inkybator. Are you going to have one of those? and a brooder? Are you, +papa?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't decided exactly what is to be in it, just yet. I think we'll +let mamma see to that—she knows best what is needed. You shall know all +about it in good time. But, Dimple, I don't want you to worry Mr. +Coulter with questions, and I want you two little girls to keep away +from the building while the work is going on."</p> + +<p>"Yes, uncle." Florence gave her promise promptly.</p> + +<p>"Yes—papa—but—" Dimple was disappointed. She dearly liked to watch +the workmen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span> when they came on the place, and she felt this was a +deprivation which seemed unnecessary. "Why, papa, can't we look at the +workmen? We won't ask questions and bother them," she said.</p> + +<p>"I think it is best that you shouldn't this time. Can't you trust papa? +When the proper time comes I'll show you the whole thing, and explain it +all. Meantime I want you to be an obedient little girl, and keep out of +the way."</p> + +<p>Dimple looked up wistfully.</p> + +<p>"Won't you please your father by minding what he says?" continued Mr. +Dallas.</p> + +<p>"Yes, papa," replied Dimple, faintly, "I will be sure to mind, only I +wish you could let me see the house going up. It is such fun to climb +about over the boards and things."</p> + +<p>"I know it is, and I know I'm requiring a great deal of you, but I think +in the end you will see why," returned her father.</p> + +<p>"Have we many little chicks to go in it. I mean will there be a great +many?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Dallas and Mr. Coulter glanced at each other and smiled; then Mr. +Dallas said, "It might be a good plan to go to the barn and see how old +Speckle is getting on. Her time is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span> about up, so perhaps we'll find some +little chicks. I'll carry you there on my back."</p> + +<p>"And maybe we'll find some eggs," spoke up Florence, who dearly liked to +hunt eggs. "We found two yesterday. Indeed, uncle, I think you do need +more hens, for auntie said yesterday that she didn't get all the eggs +she wanted."</p> + +<p>They found old Speckle ready to be quite flustered when they took her +off the nest, for they found that four little chicks were already +hatched, and the shells of several other eggs were chipped.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dallas gave the children each two of the little chicks to carry up +to the house, that they might be kept safely till Speckle came off with +the rest of the brood, and Bubbles, who had followed them, trotted along +behind with her hands full of the eggs they were fortunate enough to +find.</p> + +<p>The new building was begun at once, and Dimple found it hard to keep +away from it, but she resolutely stuck to her promise. One day, to be +sure, she did not venture nearer than usual, but suddenly she exclaimed +in a loud voice, "Get thee hence, satan!" and turning ran directly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span> into +Bubbles who, as usual, had followed her.</p> + +<p>"What dat yuh call me, Miss Dimple," exclaimed Bubbles, in an aggrieved +tone.</p> + +<p>"You! Oh, I wasn't talking to you."</p> + +<p>This seemed rather a lame excuse to Bubbles, since no one else was near. +"Yass 'm, yuh is call me sumpin'," she insisted. "Dey ain't nobody +else."</p> + +<p>"There was somebody else," Dimple replied, with dignity. "And don't you +contradict me. I reckon I know what I'm talking about better than you +do."</p> + +<p>This puzzled Bubbles, but it also silenced her, although she looked +furtively around to see where Dimple's hidden acquaintance might be; +that somebody else to whom she spoke so defiantly. "Hit's dat no 'count +little niggah Jim, I'll be bound," she muttered, under her breath. "He +done shy a stone at the de birds and dat mek Miss Dimple mad. She don't +'low nobody 'buse de birds." Thus settling the matter, she cheerfully +smiled when Dimple gave her a glance, and Dimple laughed. Then she stood +still.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span></p> + +<p>"Bubbles," she said, "papa never said you mustn't go near that house, +did he?"</p> + +<p>"No 'm."</p> + +<p>"Well, just go peep in and tell me what it looks like. From the looks of +the outside, I should say that it is nearly done. You peep in at the +window."</p> + +<p>Bubbles obeyed, and came back with the information. "Hit's got a flo' +an' a stove."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" Dimple pondered. "Oh yes, that's to keep the baby chicks warm, I +suppose. I wish I could see for myself. Is that all, Bubbles?"</p> + +<p>"Yass 'm."</p> + +<p>"I wish I hadn't told you to peep in," Dimple remarked, after a pause. +"I don't believe it was quite honest for me to do it, and I'll have to +be uncomfortable till I tell mamma or papa. You oughtn't to have peeped, +Bubbles."</p> + +<p>"Yuh tole me to."</p> + +<p>"So I did, but—well, you shouldn't have done it, just the same."</p> + +<p>Bubbles rolled her eyes reproachfully, and began to mutter.</p> + +<p>"There, never mind. It wasn't your fault," Dimple confessed, hastily. +But although Bubbles'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span> countenance cleared, Dimple herself did not feel +at ease till she had told her mother, which she did that night at +bedtime.</p> + +<p>"It was not right," her mother told her, "and was a bad example to +Bubbles. That is where the trouble often comes in. Not so much in the +actual wrong we do, but its effect upon others."</p> + +<p>"I do want to see, so very much. Papa never made it so hard for me +before."</p> + +<p>"I know it, dear. I have realized very clearly all along how hard it +must be for you, but I think when you do know you will be so pleased +that you will forget this part of it. I am glad my little girlie was +brave enough to tell of her asking Bubbles to peep."</p> + +<p>And kissing her good-night, Mrs. Dallas left her little girl feeling +comforted.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2><h3>A Quarrel</h3> +</div> + +<p>"Raining! Isn't that too bad?" said Florence, leaning on one elbow in +bed, and looking out of the window.</p> + +<p>"Hm, hm," said Dimple, sleepily, from her pillow.</p> + +<p>Florence slipped out of bed and stood looking dolefully at the falling +drops.</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose the birds do, Dimple?" she asked, going up to her, +and softly shaking her.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Dimple, now awake, and sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes, +"I suppose they get under the leaves just as we do under an umbrella, or +they go under the eaves, and places like that. I have seen them lots of +times. It is raining, isn't it, Florence?"</p> + +<p>"I said so, long ago," answered Florence; "now we can't go out of doors +to play, and it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span> is so nice outdoors. I don't see the sense of its +raining in summer."</p> + +<p>"Why," returned Dimple, sitting down on the floor to put on her shoes +and stockings, "that is the very time for it to rain, or everything +would dry up."</p> + +<p>"Well, I wish it didn't have to," said Florence, coming away from the +window, and sitting on the floor too. "What color stockings do you like +best, Dimple?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know; black, I think. Don't you?"</p> + +<p>"I believe I do. My! there is the breakfast bell, and we are only +beginning to get dressed. You fasten my buttons, and I will fasten +yours, Dimple, so we will get dressed in a hurry."</p> + +<p>Their fingers flew, and they rushed down to breakfast two steps at a +time.</p> + +<p>"It was so dark this morning that we went to sleep again after you +called us, mamma," explained Dimple.</p> + +<p>"I will excuse you this time, but your breakfast is not as warm as it +would have been earlier," said Mrs. Dallas, "and papa had to go away +without his morning kiss."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," said Dimple. "Cold eggs aren't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span> very good," she went on, +pushing away her plate. "What can we do to-day, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"What should you like to do?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," returned Dimple. "My feelings hurt me rainy days, and I +don't know what I want."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dallas smiled, as she replied, "You might make paper dolls, they +are good rainy day people; that would be one thing. Then you can paint."</p> + +<p>"I haven't but one brush, and I have used up all the books and papers +you gave me to paint in."</p> + +<p>"I can find some more, perhaps, and you and Florence can take turn about +with the paint brush."</p> + +<p>Dimple looked as if that would not suit very well, and Florence seeing +her look, felt a little hurt.</p> + +<p>Paper dolls did not amuse them very long; and when Dimple was ready to +color the pictures Mrs. Dallas had found for them, Florence declined +absolutely to paint at all. So they both sat with their elbows on the +window-sill, decidedly out of humor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span></p> + +<p>"Florence," said Dimple, presently, "I have an idea. Do you see that +hogshead down there? It is running over."</p> + +<p>"I see it," said Florence. "What of it; it isn't anything very +wonderful."</p> + +<p>"Well, you needn't be so disagreeable," said Dimple. "What I was going +to say, is this; let's make paper boats, and put paper dolls in them. We +can pretend the hogshead is Niagara Falls, and the water that runs down +the gutter can be Niagara river."</p> + +<p>"We will get sopping wet."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, we won't; it isn't raining so awfully hard. I will put on my +rubber waterproof, and you can put on mamma's. We can slip around there +without any one seeing us, for mamma is busy on the other side of the +house. Don't you think it would be fun?"</p> + +<p>"Ye-es," said Florence, doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Let's hurry and make the boats then. Which paper dolls shall we take? +The ugliest, I think, because they will all be drowned anyhow; and don't +let's take any pretty frocks, because we can make dolls to fit the +frocks when these are drowned."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span></p> + +<p>With paper boats, dolls and waterproofs they stole softly down the front +stairs, and shutting the door after them very gently, ran around the +house to the hogshead. The roses were heavy with rain, and the +honeysuckle shook big drops on them, as they ran by.</p> + +<p>The boats went topsy-turvy over the falls, upsetting the dolls, who went +careering down the stream, to the great delight of the children.</p> + +<p>They played till the last boat load was lost beyond all hope, and then, +with wet feet and streaming sleeves, they crept back to the house.</p> + +<p>"Now, what shall we do? It was lots of fun, Dimple," said Florence, "but +I know your mother will scold, when she sees how wet our feet are, and +your foot just well too, and see my sleeves. If we change our clothes +she will wonder and then—What shall we do?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think it was a bit of harm," said Dimple, determined to brave +it out, "but it won't do to keep these wet frocks on. I know. We will go +up into the attic, take them off, and hang them up to dry; then we can +dress up in other things. There are trunks and boxes full of clothes up +there, and we can play something."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span></p> + +<p>"So we can," exclaimed Florence. "That is a perfectly lovely plan. Do +you think our clothes will dry before supper?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Dimple; "anyhow it will be funny to put on trains and +things. Come on."</p> + +<p>They raced up to the garret, and were soon diving into the boxes and +trunks of winter clothing that Mrs. Dallas had packed away.</p> + +<p>"Here," said Dimple, on her knees before a trunk, "take this skirt of +mamma's," and she dragged out a cashmere skirt. "Florence, see what is +in those band-boxes, and get us each a bonnet, while I hunt for a shawl +or coat, or something."</p> + +<p>After much tumbling up of clothing, she found what she wanted, and they +had taken off their frocks when they heard Mrs. Dallas calling,</p> + +<p>"Children, where are you?"</p> + +<p>Both were silent for a moment, and stood with quickly beating hearts.</p> + +<p>After a second call, Dimple mustered up courage to answer, "Up here, +mamma."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"In the garret."</p> + +<p>"What are you doing?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span></p> + +<p>"Just playing."</p> + +<p>"Well, don't get into any mischief," came from the bottom of the stairs, +and then Mrs. Dallas went off.</p> + +<p>Presently there came another fright: a footstep on the stairs.</p> + +<p>"Who is that?" asked Dimple, fearfully.</p> + +<p>"Me," came the answer, as Bubbles' woolly head appeared.</p> + +<p>"It is only Bubbles," said Dimple, much relieved. "Come up, Bubbles; we +are dressing up, and you shall too; but if you dare to tell on us—off +you go to the orphan asylum."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't tell fur nothin', Miss Dimple," said she, as Dimple threw +her an old wrapper.</p> + +<p>"I am going to be Lady Melrose, and Florence Lady Beckwith. You can +be—Oh, Florence, let's dress Bubbles up in a coat and trousers, and +have her for a footman."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Florence, and shaking with laughter, Bubbles was +attired in coat, trousers, and tall hat.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she is too funny," said Florence, holding her sides. "Where is my +bonnet?"</p> + +<p>"That's mine," exclaimed Dimple, as Florence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span> possessed herself of a +bonnet with feathers in it.</p> + +<p>"No, I chose this first," said Florence.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's my mother's, I reckon, and I have the best right to it."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm company, and you're very impolite."</p> + +<p>"I'm not," retorted Dimple, getting very red in the face.</p> + +<p>"You are. I'd have my mother teach me how to behave, if I were you, +Dimple Dallas."</p> + +<p>"You horrid, red-headed thing!" cried Dimple, now thoroughly angry. "I'd +like to know how you would look in a garnet velvet bonnet anyhow. You'd +better take something that's not quite so near the color of your hair."</p> + +<p>"My hair isn't red, it's auburn," said Florence, bursting into a sob, +"and I'm not going to stay here another minute. I'm going straight home +to my mother." And she tore off the clothes in which she had decked +herself, leaving them in a heap on the floor. She snatched up her wet +frock and ran downstairs.</p> + +<p>Dimple sat quite still after Florence left her. She did not dare to go +downstairs for fear of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span> encountering her mother, and yet, suppose +Florence should really mean to go home. How dreadful! She considered the +question till she could bear it no longer, and, slowly putting on her +own clothes, she crept downstairs, hoping as she went from room to room +that she would find Florence. She even peeped cautiously in upon her +mother, busy with her sewing, but no Florence was to be seen.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she has started to go home," Dimple said to herself, in real +alarm. "Oh, dear, I hope there hasn't been any train along that she +could take." She put on her hat, seized an umbrella from the rack, and +sallied forth. It was still raining hard, and as she splashed along, the +little girl was very miserable.</p> + +<p>It was quite a walk to the railway station, and Dimple hurried her +steps, fearing she might be too late to intercept her cousin. She +entered the waiting-room of the station, and looked anxiously around. No +Florence was there. Her heart sank and she turned to go. Florence had +really meant what she said. And her aunt and cousins in Baltimore, what +would they think of her? The tears began to roll down Dimple's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span> cheeks +as she looked up and down the long track. She did not know what to do +next. It would be so dreadful to go home and tell her mother that she +had driven her cousin away by her rudeness. She was about to turn toward +home, when she bethought herself of making some inquiry about the +trains; and she entered the waiting-room again.</p> + +<p>Standing on tiptoe she asked the ticket agent. "When was the last train +to Baltimore?"</p> + +<p>"Next train leaves at 4:50," said the man, without looking up.</p> + +<p>"Not the next train, but the last train. When did it go?"</p> + +<p>"Last train!" the man glanced up. "Last train left at 2:15."</p> + +<p>"Thank you." It was with a sense of relief that she heard him give the +time. Florence had not left the house so long ago as that. It was now +after four, and two hours had not elapsed since they were playing in the +garret. So she went slowly out, but suddenly remembered that Florence +was not at home. Where was she? Perhaps she was lost. She didn't know +her way<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span> about very well, Dimple reflected, and she could easily have +taken a wrong turn.</p> + +<p>"I'll just have to look for her, that's all," thought Dimple; and the +little feet pattered along in the rain, getting wetter and wetter each +moment.</p> + +<p>Up one street and down another went Dimple, but there was no sign of +Florence, and the child's repentance grew stronger as she traveled on. +Her imagination saw Florence in a dozen different plights, each one +worse than the last. Accidents of various kinds, disasters of every +possible nature, even the very improbable idea that she had been stolen +by gypsies, rose to the child's mind, till, terror stricken, she flew +along, scarcely knowing which way she went.</p> + +<p>She was conscious of steadily pursuing footsteps behind her, but she did +not turn to look until the feet came nearer and nearer and a soft +plaintive voice called, "Oh, Miss Dimple, stop, please stop." Looking +around, she saw that Bubbles had followed her.</p> + +<p>It was a relief to see the familiar face, and Dimple forlornly dropped +into her little maid's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span> arms crying: "Oh, Bubbles! Oh, Bubbles, Florence +is lost."</p> + +<p>"No 'm, she ain't," replied Bubbles, with confidence.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how do you know?"</p> + +<p>"'Cause she come in de front do' jis' as I was gwine th'ough de yard. I +never stopped to ast her nothin', fo' I seen yuh a kitin' down street, +an' I put after yuh, lickety-split. All of a suddent I los' sight of +yuh, an' I been a standin' on de cornah waitin' fo' yuh to come back. I +know yuh 'bleedged to cross to git home, an' I been a waitin' fo' yuh."</p> + +<p>"Oh Bubbles! Oh Bubbles! I'm so glad, but I'm so tired and so wet, +and—oh dear—I'm afraid to tell mamma, and I'm so miserable. I never +was so miserable."</p> + +<p>Bubbles looked as sympathetic as the occasion required, and trotted +along by Dimple's side, holding the umbrella over her, and trying to +suggest all manner of comforting things.</p> + +<p>"Hit'll all be ovah befo' yuh is twict married, Miss Dimple, and hit +mought be wuss. S'posin' Miss Flo'ence was los' sho 'nough, den yuh +might tek on. She safe an' soun'. Jes' yuh come in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span> de back way, an' +I'll git yuh some dry things. An' Sylvy won't say nothin'. I jes' know +she wont, an' yuh can git dry by de kitchen fire. I reckon Miss Flo'ence +mighty 'shamed o' herse'f, kickin' up all dis rumpus 'bout nothin'."</p> + +<p>But Dimple shook her head. "It wasn't about nothing. I behaved just as +mean as could be, and I'm the one to be ashamed. I'll go straight to +mamma; it will be best, for she would find out anyhow, and besides, I'd +feel a great deal worse if I deceived her about it."</p> + +<p>Bubbles was not to be convinced that her beloved Miss Dimple was at all +in the wrong, but Dimple would not change her mind, being in a state of +great humility and penitence, and finally Bubbles gave up trying to +dissuade her.</p> + +<p>Florence had reached home long before. Indeed she had not gone very far +before her anger cooled, although she was still very much hurt; but she +concluded it would not be right to start off for her own home without a +word to her aunt, who had been so kind to her. This thought added to her +unhappiness, and she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span> went to Dimple's room, throwing herself on the +floor, crying bitterly.</p> + +<p>The sound of her sobs brought Mrs. Dallas from the next room.</p> + +<p>"Why, Florence," she said, seeing the little girl prone upon the floor. +"What is the matter? Why have you taken off your frock?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! auntie," sobbed Florence, "please let me go home; indeed, I can't +stay."</p> + +<p>"Are you homesick?" asked her aunt, as she took her up on her lap, and +pushed back the damp hair from her face. "Poor little girl!"</p> + +<p>A fresh burst of tears was the only answer.</p> + +<p>"Where is Dimple?" asked Mrs. Dallas.</p> + +<p>But Florence only cried the harder, and her aunt was forced to put her +down with an uncomfortable sense of there being something wrong. She +went directly up to the attic, but it was silent. Dimple was not there, +neither was Bubbles, and no amount of search revealed them. She went +back to Florence, who dried her tears and unburdened her heart, and then +in her turn became alarmed about Dimple, since no amount of hunting +disclosed her whereabouts.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Dallas was, herself, becoming much worried, when the door slowly +opened and a disheveled little figure stood before them, with soaking +garments and sodden shoes.</p> + +<p>For a moment Dimple stood, then ran forward and buried her head in her +mother's lap.</p> + +<p>"Mamma," she sobbed, "it was all on account of the weather. I coaxed +Florence out to the hogshead, and then we got wet, and didn't know how +to get out of it, and we went up into the attic, and I felt naughty all +the time, and we got mad, and oh dear! I wish the sun would shine."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid from all I hear, that you have been the one to set all this +mischief astir," said her mother. "I thought I could trust my little +girl. Think, Dimple, what a day's work. You have tempted your cousin to +do wrong, first by going out in the wet, and again by meddling with the +clothing upstairs; then you hurt her feelings, and quarreled with her, +and now you blame the weather for it all, besides setting a bad example +to Bubbles. Where have you been, my child?"</p> + +<p>"Trying to find Florence, mamma. I walked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span> and walked, and I was so +worried, and—oh, mamma, I thought all sorts of dreadful things. I went +to the station, Florence, and I found out there that you hadn't really +gone home; then I thought you were lost, or that the cars had run over +you, or the gypsies had stolen you, or that—oh I'm so miserable," she +caught her breath, and shivered with cold and excitement.</p> + +<p>Her mother was unfastening her wet garments. She felt that Dimple's +naughtiness had brought its own punishment. "I think Florence has +changed her mind about going home," she said, quietly.</p> + +<p>Dimple raised a tear-stained face. "Oh, Florence, have you?" she +exclaimed. "I'm so glad. I don't want you to think I don't love you, for +I do. I love you dearly, dearly, Florence, and I think your hair is +lovely."</p> + +<p>This was too much for Florence's tender heart, and she sobbed out, "It +was my fault too, Dimple. I said hateful things, and I couldn't forgive +myself when I thought you had gone, I didn't know where. I had no +business to scare you so. Please, Aunt Flo, kiss us and forgive us, and +please, for my sake, don't scold Dimple."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Dallas gathered the two little penitents into her loving arms. They +were so truly sorry, and had suffered really more than they deserved. "I +think Dimple sees her fault quite plainly, dear," Florence was told, +"but I am afraid you will both be ill, and so I think I must put you to +bed, not for punishment, but because you must be kept warm, and must +have something hot to keep you from taking cold. Where is Bubbles, +Dimple? Wasn't she with you?"</p> + +<p>"Not all the time, mamma, but she came after me, and found me on the +corner. Please don't punish her. She only went out because she wanted to +find me."</p> + +<p>"I understand that, and I know she did not mean to do wrong. She did +what she felt to be her duty to you. I'll not scold her, nor punish her, +daughter."</p> + +<p>Dimple gave a sigh of relief, and pressed her wet cheek against her +mother's. "Please kiss me, mamma," she whispered, "and then I'll know +you forgive naughty me."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dallas immediately consented, and when she left the room, two very +contrite little girls cuddled up close to each other, and took without<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span> +a murmur the hot herb tea which Mrs. Dallas brought to them. And the +next morning when they woke, lo! the sun was shining, and not an ache +nor a pain did either little girl feel to remind her of the dreary +yesterday.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2><h3>Housebreakers</h3> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Despite</span> all this unpleasant experience, it was only about a week later +that Dimple and Florence came near getting into trouble again. This +time, however, it was Florence who set the ball rolling. It was not +exactly from a spirit of mischief, but because her fancy was appealed +to, and because she did not see any harm in what she proposed.</p> + +<p>The two little girls had been to take a note to Mrs. Hardy, and on their +way home they passed a pretty house and grounds which greatly attracted +Florence.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do let us stop and look in," she said. "I think this is the very +prettiest place here, don't you, Dimple?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," was the reply, "I like it best. The grounds are so lovely. See +those roses."</p> + +<p>The two pressed their faces against the iron<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span> railing, and let their +eyes wander over the lawn and to the garden beyond.</p> + +<p>"How very quiet it is," Florence remarked, presently. "We can't hear a +sound except the wind among the trees, and the robins singing. There +doesn't seem to be a soul about. Who lives here, Dimple?"</p> + +<p>"The Atkinsons. Mamma and papa know them."</p> + +<p>"Are there any little children?"</p> + +<p>"Not now; there used to be a little girl named Stella, but she died two +years ago, and now there is only their eldest son living; he has just +gone abroad with his mother. That is why it's so quiet. They are all +away. You see the house is shut up."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I wonder if they would mind if we went in and looked around. Do you +think they would mind? I should love so to go and sit on that porch for +a few minutes."</p> + +<p>Dimple hesitated. She wasn't quite sure that it would be right for them +to go in, especially when no one was at home.</p> + +<p>"You know," Florence went on, "it would be just exactly the same as if +we went there to call,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span> and they should happen to be out. It won't hurt +anybody or anything for us to walk around and look at the grounds."</p> + +<p>At last Dimple consented. So they lifted the latch of the gate and shut +it behind them very gingerly.</p> + +<p>"Do you often come here?" asked Florence, when they had made their tour +of the grounds and were sitting on the porch in the shadow of the vines.</p> + +<p>"Not so very often, but I have been here with mamma when she came to +call. I remember Stella very well. She died of diphtheria, and they have +a lovely portrait of her. She was such a pretty little girl, and the +portrait shows her with a great big dog she used to have."</p> + +<p>"How I should like to see the portrait. Wouldn't it be nice if the door +should suddenly open, and we could walk right in?"</p> + +<p>Dimple laughed. "I'd be scared if that should happen. The house is +beautiful inside. I never saw so many pretty things. Mrs. Atkinson's +father was a naval officer, and she has curiosities from all over the +world."</p> + +<p>"I wish Mrs. Atkinson had said, 'Dimple,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span> here are the keys, come in as +often as you like while we are away; in fact, I wish you would try to +come in and look around once in a while to see if everything is all +right.'"</p> + +<p>"Maybe she would have said that if she had thought of it," returned +Dimple, "for she is always so nice and pleasant."</p> + +<p>Florence cast wistful eyes up and down the side of the house; then she +went out on the lawn, at the side, and looked up. "Dimple, come here," +she called, and her cousin obeyed. "We could get in as easily as +anything," said Florence. "See, that's a very easy tree to climb, and +that long branch goes right over the upper porch. We could reach that; +then we could go in by raising the window."</p> + +<p>"If the window is not fastened down. Maybe there is some one in the +house, after all. I shouldn't think they would leave it with no one ever +to look after it. We might go around to the back door and see."</p> + +<p>"Let's try climbing the tree anyhow. It will be easy enough to do that, +and won't do a bit of harm. See, I'm going," and Florence put her foot +against the rough bark, and swung herself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span> up, reaching the porch +without difficulty. But Dimple would not follow and her cousin climbed +down again, not, however, as easily as she had gone up.</p> + +<p>"It was nothing at all to do," she declared. "I think you might try it, +Dimple. I'll tell you what we'll do: let's bring our dolls to-morrow, +and go up there and play. I'm sure if I had a pretty place like this, I +should be glad if two little girls, like us, could come and enjoy it. +Ah, Dimple, you don't know how fine it is on that upper porch. It would +be the finest place in the world to play in."</p> + +<p>The idea took such possession of her that the next morning she broached +the subject again.</p> + +<p>"I'll ask mamma," said Dimple, at last consenting with this proviso. But +Mrs. Dallas had gone out to spend the morning with a friend, and finally +Florence's persuasions overcame Dimple's scruples, and with Celestine +and Rubina they set forth.</p> + +<p>At first Florence was contented to play on the corner porch, but the +memory of the day before was too much for her, and she again climbed to +the upper porch. "Do come up, Dimple," she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span> coaxed. "You've no idea how +fine it is, with the tree all around. It's just like a nest," and Dimple +decided that she would try it too.</p> + +<p>"Wait, we mustn't leave the dolls," Florence said. "I wish we had a +piece of string. See if you can find a piece, Dimple."</p> + +<p>After much searching Dimple hunted up an end of rope, which she found by +the kitchen shed, and brought around. "Will this do?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Finely. Can you throw it so I can catch it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Maybe I could if I tied a stone to it. Don't let it hit +you, Florence."</p> + +<p>After several attempts the rope was landed, and when the dolls were +fastened to it, they were drawn safely up, and then Dimple made her +ascent successfully.</p> + +<p>"It is nice," she declared. "Isn't it fun to be here, where no one can +see us? I wonder if that window will open." She gave the shutters a +little shake and lo! they offered no resistance, but opened easily, and, +the latch being out of order, the window, too, yielded to their efforts, +and before they knew it, they were inside.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now we're here, we might as well go through the house," said Florence. +"And you can show me the portrait."</p> + +<p>They proceeded stealthily through rooms whose furniture was swathed in +sheets to keep away the dust. It all looked rather bare and desolate +upstairs in the dim rooms, but it was better below, especially in the +dining-room, where a big bay window let in a flood of light when the +inside shutters were opened.</p> + +<p>"Let's pretend it's our house, and keep house really," Florence +exclaimed. "Here is a broom and a duster. I'll sweep and you can dust. +Then if we can find some dishes, we'll set the table. I wish we had +brought something to eat. Oh, Dimple, you haven't shown me the portrait +yet; where is it?"</p> + +<p>"In the library. Come, we'll go there now."</p> + +<p>"My, but it's dark in here!" Florence exclaimed, as they entered the +room. "Let us open the shutters a little so we can see the picture."</p> + +<p>This they managed to do, shutting the window carefully.</p> + +<p>"It seems dark still," Dimple remarked. "I wonder what makes this such a +dark room." Just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span> then they heard a mighty crash and both started, then +clung to each other, whispering, "What's that?"</p> + +<p>"It is thunder," said Dimple, when a second peal was heard. "Oh, how +dark it is. Come, Florence; we must hurry. Open the window and shut the +shutters as quick as you can and I'll go to the dining-room. We must +leave everything as we found it."</p> + +<p>"Don't leave me," Florence implored. "I can't bear to be alone when the +lightning flashes so." And together they fastened the shutters and the +windows, then ran to the porch, where they had left their dolls.</p> + +<p>An angry gust was blowing the dust about furiously. The trees swayed and +creaked, lashing their branches about in a very terrifying way. The +thunder growled and muttered, while sharp flashes of lightning zigzagged +across the sky almost incessantly.</p> + +<p>"We would never dare to go down the tree while it is blowing so," said +Florence, after they had surveyed the scene for a moment in silence.</p> + +<p>"But it is beginning to rain. Oh, dear! What shall we do? It's coming +down a perfect torrent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span> Come back, Florence; we'll have to go inside," +cried Dimple. And snatching up their dolls, they retreated into the +house in no enviable state of mind, between fear of the tempest and +alarm at being obliged to stay alone where they were.</p> + +<p>"We might as well make ourselves comfortable," Florence said at last. +"Suppose we go down to the library or the dining-room. We can open the +inside shutters, and it won't seem so gloomy. I'd rather see the +lightning than stay up here in the dark."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! I wish we hadn't come at all," sighed Dimple. "I wish we were +safe at home. Mamma will be so worried, for she won't know where we are. +I do wish we hadn't come."</p> + +<p>Florence was very uncomfortable, but she tried to brave it out. +"Anyhow," she said, "it's a great deal better than to be out in the +storm. I am sure auntie will be very glad when she knows we were safe +here, and it isn't as if you had come to a perfectly strange house. The +Atkinsons are your friends, and they won't mind a bit our coming here +for shelter. I know they won't. They'd be very hard-hearted if they did +mind."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I s'pose so," returned Dimple, somewhat comforted.</p> + +<p>"Very likely your mamma isn't bothering at all about us," Florence went +on. "She probably hasn't gone home herself, on account of the storm."</p> + +<p>They had been conversing together at the top of the stairs, and now made +their way to the dining-room, where, after opening the shutters, they +stood looking out at the rain. The peals of thunder had died away into +distant mutterings, but it was still raining hard.</p> + +<p>"Somehow we always get into trouble when it rains," Dimple remarked.</p> + +<p>"Don't let's talk about that," returned Florence. "See how the raindrops +dance up and down. Little water fairies they are. Don't they look as if +they were having a good time?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but I'm getting hungry. I wonder if it isn't most dinner time. Do +you suppose it will rain all afternoon, Florence?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. If it holds up we'll have to run between the drops."</p> + +<p>"But how can we get out? We could never climb down that sopping wet +tree, and we would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span> be very wicked to leave any part of the house down +here unfastened. Some one might see us and try to get in."</p> + +<p>They lapsed into a grave silence which was presently broken by a +startled "What's that?" from Dimple. She heard a sound like the click of +a key turning in a latch. They listened fearfully, as the sound was +followed by the shutting of a door, and the noise of footsteps along the +hall. The two girls looked at each other. "Let's hide," whispered +Florence, but before they had decided what to do, a man was seen +standing in the doorway. It was Mr. Atkinson.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, well," he exclaimed, "where did you little girls come from? +You came in out of the rain, I suppose, but how did you manage it? Why, +Eleanor, is it you? I declare, I didn't know you. It is fortunate you +managed to escape the storm; it was a hard one."</p> + +<p>Dimple stood very much confused, her color coming and going, and her +eyes very bright. But she summoned up courage to make the confession: +"We did come in out of the rain, Mr. Atkinson, but no one let us in, and +we didn't happen to come here on account of the storm."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span></p> + +<p>"You didn't! Come here, then, and tell me about it." He drew her to his +side and looked down at her very kindly.</p> + +<p>She dropped her eyes and hung her head in confusion, but she went on, +"We,—we thought it was so pretty here, and—and we thought you wouldn't +mind if we came and brought our dolls and sat on the porch a little +while; we didn't think you'd care if we were very good and didn't touch +anything. Then it was so easy to climb the tree and get on the other +porch, and when we got there,—why I wanted to show Florence the +portrait of your little girl, and we did not have to force the shutter +at all; it opened just as easy, and so did the window; and we went +downstairs, and while we were looking at the portrait the storm came up +and we were afraid to climb down the tree; it was blowing about so, and +we didn't like to go out any other way and leave the windows downstairs +unfastened. So—we stayed."</p> + +<p>Mr. Atkinson listened quietly. "So you were housebreakers. Don't you +know that's a prison offence? Burglary is a pretty serious crime." He +looked very serious, and Dimple did not see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span> the twinkle in his eyes. +Her own grew round with horror.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she gasped. "Oh! we didn't mean—" The tears began to gather, and +the child's lips quivered. She was overcome with dismay. "I am so sorry, +so dreadfully sorry," she quavered.</p> + +<p>Mr. Atkinson put his hand on her sunny head. "There, dear, never mind," +he said, "you were a very innocent pair of housebreakers, and you are a +very brave and honest little girl to tell me the truth about it, when +you might easily have allowed me to think it happened another way. Of +course, on general principles, it isn't right to break into any one's +house, but I think you may have done me a good turn by letting me know +about that weak place upstairs, and you may have prevented a real thief +from breaking in. You see, I come down from the city every Saturday to +look after things while my wife and son are away, and I am glad I +happened to be here just now. Let us forget all about the unpleasant +part of this, and make ourselves comfortable. You are my guests. Who is +your little friend?"</p> + +<p>"My cousin Florence."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah, yes. I am glad to see you, Florence. Now don't you think it would +be wise, Eleanor, if I were to speak to your father over the 'phone, and +let him know you are safe?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, thank you. Is there a telephone in the house?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I can call up your father at his office. You can speak to him +yourself, if you like. What time does he go home to dinner?"</p> + +<p>"About half-past one o'clock."</p> + +<p>Mr. Atkinson consulted his watch. "We shall catch him, I think." And in +a few minutes Dimple, listening, heard her father's voice in reply to +Mr. Atkinson's "Hallo! is that you, Dallas?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to speak to him yourself?" asked Mr. Atkinson, when he +had told Mr. Dallas that Dimple and her cousin were safely housed. He +lifted the little girl up so she could call her father. "I'm safe here, +papa, and so is Florence," she said; "please tell mamma."</p> + +<p>The answer came, "I will, daughter; I'm glad you are in good hands. I'll +tell mamma to send Bubbles for you when it has stopped raining."</p> + +<p>"Let them stay till I take them home," spoke up Mr. Atkinson. "I can +take care of them,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span> and it will be a great pleasure to have them here."</p> + +<p>"Very well, if you like. I shall be satisfied to have them in such safe +hands. Good-bye," came Mr. Dallas's parting words.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," and Mr. Atkinson hung up the receiver, and turned to his +guests. "Now, young ladies, I suspect you are hungry. I am, for one. +Suppose we see what we can find to eat." He took out his keys and +unlocked the pantry door. The girls looked at each other. There were +delightful possibilities before them.</p> + +<p>"I'll forage in here," continued Mr. Atkinson, "while you set the table. +You'll find dishes in there." And he pointed to a china-closet.</p> + +<p>This was such an unexpected outcome of the morning's affair, that the +two little girls retired behind the door and hugged each other, and then +briskly went to work to set the table, upon which Mr. Atkinson placed +various articles.</p> + +<p>"I keep a lot of such truck in here," he told them. "So, in case I get +hungry, I can find a bite to eat. Do you like sardines or canned salmon +best?"</p> + +<p>"Sardines!" exclaimed both the girls.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span></p> + +<p>"That settles it. We haven't any ice, or we could have some lemonade. +We'd better have chocolate. What do you say?"</p> + +<p>"It would be very nice, but we have no fire."</p> + +<p>"Fire enough. See here." He turned on the gas, and lighted a little +stove over which the chocolate was made, condensed milk being at hand +for use.</p> + +<p>"Now, let me see. I've some ginger-snaps somewhere, and some marmalade. +This is rather a mixed meal, I am thinking, but it will keep us from +starving."</p> + +<p>"I should think so," said Florence, surveying the table. "I think it is +fine."</p> + +<p>"And we can wash the dishes afterward. Will you let us?" asked Dimple.</p> + +<p>"I shall be charmed to have you," Mr. Atkinson assured her. "It was one +of the points upon which I felt uncertain. I confess to disliking, very +much, that part of the business; and now you relieve my anxiety."</p> + +<p>They made a merry meal of it, and became very well acquainted with their +host before it was over. He told them funny stories and kept them +laughing so that they were a long time<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span> getting their appetites +satisfied, and as it had become much cooler, Bubbles appeared with wraps +for them before they had finished with the dishes.</p> + +<p>"We have had such a lovely, lovely time," said Dimple, as she raised a +beaming face to Mr. Atkinson. "You know just what to do to make little +girls have a good time, don't you?"</p> + +<p>He stooped and kissed her. "I had a little girl once," he replied, +gravely.</p> + +<p>Dimple put her two arms closely around his neck. She felt so very, very +sorry when she remembered pretty little Stella. "I'd like to be your +little girl, if I had to be any one's but papa's and mamma's," she +whispered.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, dear child, I appreciate that. It is a very great +compliment," he answered, slowly. "I want you two little girls to come +over whenever you can. I am always here on Saturday afternoons. Will you +come to see me often?"</p> + +<p>"If mamma will let us. I'm afraid maybe she will not, because we were +naughty about coming when we had no right to."</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll see how we can manage it. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span> will tell your father about +it, myself, or, better still, I will walk home with you, and you can +tell your story to your mother, and let me beg pardon for you. How will +that do?"</p> + +<p>Dimple's eyes spoke her thanks, and she turned to Florence who answered +with a satisfied smile.</p> + +<p>And so by Mr. Atkinson's kind request the culprits were forgiven, and +were promised that they should go again since Mr. Atkinson really wanted +them. "And you must feel at liberty to play about the grounds all you +choose," he told the girls. "They can run about, and sit on the porches +and do as they please, so long as they do not trample the flower-beds, +or get into any mischief," he said to Mrs. Dallas.</p> + +<p>"We wouldn't hurt anything for the world," put in Florence and Dimple, +eagerly. And they bade their good friend farewell, feeling very humble +and thankful that matters had turned out so well for them.</p> + +<p>"We don't deserve it, and I feel dreadfully ashamed of myself," said +Florence, meekly.</p> + +<p>"I think Mr. Atkinson put our heads in the fire," said Dimple, soberly.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" her mother asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, isn't that what the Bible says when any one does something very +kind to you after you have been mean to him?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dallas laughed. "You mean he heaped coals of fire on your head; +that is the expression the Bible uses."</p> + +<p>"It's a funny one," Dimple responded, thoughtfully. "Anyhow, mamma, I +shall never, never try to break into any one's house again."</p> + +<p>"I hope not."</p> + +<p>"I really meant to ask you if we could go over there, mamma, but you had +gone out. We were in a dreadful trouble for a while."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know, dear. One very little wrong beginning sometimes leads to a +great deal of trouble; even grown people find that out."</p> + +<p>"Do they? It always seems as if you must know everything, mamma."</p> + +<p>She smiled and shook her head. Thus ended this incident, but neither +Dimple nor Florence ever forgot it.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2><h3>Rock</h3> +</div> + +<p>Florence and Dimple with Rubina and Celestine were on the back porch, +when they heard some one whistle, and looking up they saw Rock coming +around the corner of the house.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning," said he, "I am glad you have your dolls here; I want to +measure them."</p> + +<p>"Why, are you a tailor?" asked Florence.</p> + +<p>"No," he said, laughing, "only a cabinetmaker. I came over with a +message from my mother to Mrs. Dallas, and a message from myself to +yourselves."</p> + +<p>"Have you given mamma her message?" asked Dimple.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he, "and mine is that I want you to come to tea with me +to-morrow evening, you and Florence and the dolls."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the dolls?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the dolls. I will come for you, if you like, at half-past four."</p> + +<p>"Did mamma say we might go?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, so it is all settled."</p> + +<p>"Now," said Florence, "we <i>must</i> make the dolls new frocks. Do tell us, +Rock, what they ought to wear."</p> + +<p>Rock turned over the bits of stuff in Dimple's box. "White, I think," +said he; "that dotted stuff is pretty."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said Dimple, "and I have plenty of that. We can trim them +with this lace, Florence, and they will look so cool and nice. Now if +mamma only had time to make hats for them!"</p> + +<p>"I'll make them hats," said Rock.</p> + +<p>"You! Whoever heard of boys making hats for dolls?"</p> + +<p>"Did you never hear of a man-milliner?" asked Rock. "And men +dressmakers? I have. You stay here. I am going to ask your mamma for +something to make them of."</p> + +<p>"Isn't he a funny boy, Florence?" said Dimple, as Rock disappeared; "but +I think he is real nice. Just hand me the scissors, won't you? Which way +does this go, so, or so?"</p> + +<p>"So, like mine. Are you going to make a wide or a narrow hem?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span></p> + +<p>"Wide, if the stuff is long enough; it isn't so easy, but it looks +nicer. I wonder if mamma will give us fresh ribbons for sashes for the +dolls; it will set them off so."</p> + +<p>"Here comes Rock," exclaimed Florence, "and what has he in his hand? An +old bonnet, I declare."</p> + +<p>"Now," said Rock, "if you will tell me where I can get a basin of water, +I will make the hats."</p> + +<p>"With water?"</p> + +<p>"I shall need water. Don't get up—Bubbles will get it for me," as +Dimple was about to put down her work.</p> + +<p>Bubbles brought the water, and Rock began to rip the straw bonnet to +pieces; then he dampened it a little and sewed it into shape, once in a +while dampening it more to give it the right turn. "Will you have a wide +or a narrow brim?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, just a between brim. Don't you say so, Florence? Isn't it going to +be lovely? Did you ever?" as Rock handed her a cunning little straw hat.</p> + +<p>"Now for the other one," said he, and he soon had that done too.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span></p> + +<p>A little narrow ribbon and one or two flowers made the hats perfect.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rock, I wish you were my brother," sighed Dimple, as she held her +doll off at arm's length to admire her. "Rubina, you are a darling! blue +is <i>so</i> becoming to her."</p> + +<p>"I almost wish I had trimmed mine with blue," said Florence, +regretfully.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think pink is just as pretty," exclaimed Rock, "and it is nicer +not to have them both alike."</p> + +<p>"Now what are you making?" asked Dimple, as Rock went on sewing straw.</p> + +<p>"Baskets."</p> + +<p>"Baskets, for the dolls?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, for the dolls, or you either."</p> + +<p>Dimple put her chin in her hands, and leaned on the arm of her chair to +watch him.</p> + +<p>"How clever you are," she said, "I wish you were my brother, really and +truly, Rock."</p> + +<p>"Well, we will pretend I am," said he. "What shall I put in your basket, +sister?"</p> + +<p>They all laughed.</p> + +<p>"I don't think it will hold much, but Rubina can put her work in it. +See, if I pin her arm up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span> so, she can hold it nicely. There! I must go +and show it to mamma. I'll tell her to adopt you," she called back, as +she ran off.</p> + +<p>"Now I must clear up my scraps," said Rock, as he put the finishing +touches to the other basket.</p> + +<p>"Mamma says I may gather you some flowers," said Dimple, coming out +again with a pair of shears in her hand, "and she says you are a very +nice boy, a very nice boy indeed."</p> + +<p>Rock laughed. "She wouldn't think so sometimes," said he. "I don't +believe she wants to change children with my mother."</p> + +<p>"I hope she doesn't want to," said Dimple, then added quickly, "Not that +I don't think your mother is real nice, Rock, but you know I am so used +to mine, and she is so used to me."</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Rock, laughing again. "I didn't mean they would +change, or even think of it."</p> + +<p>"Now let's get the flowers," said Dimple; "you are to choose just which +you like best, Rock," she said, leading the way to the flower-beds. "The +pansies are almost gone, but there are plenty of roses yet, and +verbenas, and mignonette, and lots of things."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now, Rock," she said, as they went along the paths, "you are not +choosing the prettiest ones at all. I believe you are picking out the +mean ones on purpose; I am going to choose myself. You tell me, +Florence, whenever you see a real pretty one."</p> + +<p>Florence promised, and Rock looked on, secretly pleased that they had +taken the matter into their own hands.</p> + +<p>"What lovely ones you have chosen," he said, as Dimple gave the bunch +into his hands. "Thank you so much."</p> + +<p>"And thank you, so much," said the girls, "for the hats, and the +baskets, and the invitation."</p> + +<p>"You will be sure to be ready," he said, at the gate.</p> + +<p>"Yes," they cried.</p> + +<p>"At half-past four?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye sister; good-bye Florence; go in out of the sun."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, brother, keep in the shade."</p> + +<p>Then they laughed and ran in.</p> + +<p>"Mamma," cried Dimple. "Auntie," cried Florence, "where are you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span></p> + +<p>"Upstairs," she answered.</p> + +<p>Up they ran. "Aren't you glad Rock is such a nice boy? Did you know boys +could be so nice?" asked Dimple.</p> + +<p>"I knew they could be, if they would."</p> + +<p>"What makes Rock so gentle and kind and good?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you see he lost his father when he was a very little boy, and as +he had no brothers or sisters, he has been almost constantly with his +mother, who is a very gentle, sweet woman."</p> + +<p>"He doesn't seem silly, like some boys, either," said Florence. "I know +a boy, we call him 'sissy,' he is so like a girl, and he is always +whining, and afraid of cold, and afraid of sun, and afraid of +everything."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't like that kind of boy," Dimple said. "Mamma, I call Rock my +brother, and he calls me sister."</p> + +<p>"Do you?" said her mother, smiling. "Now it is nearly dinner time, and +if I am not mistaken, two little girls have left their new dolls, and +all their scraps and things out on the porch."</p> + +<p>"So we have!" they exclaimed, and ran down to bring them in.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span></p> + +<p>The dolls were laid away in state for the next day, and at the sound of +the dinner bell, the girls went into dinner.</p> + +<p>Since the arrival of Florence, Dimple had not cared so much for Bubbles' +society, and sometimes objected to her joining in their plays; but +Bubbles, by the gift of Floridy Alabamy, did not lack amusement, and +could be seen almost any afternoon happy with her doll.</p> + +<p>She was singing, "Oh Beurah lan', sweet Beurah lan'," when Florence +called her.</p> + +<p>"What are you singing, Bubbles?"</p> + +<p>"Beurah lan'," answered she.</p> + +<p>"What does she mean, Dimple?"</p> + +<p>"Beulah land. She does get things so twisted. We are going down to the +woodshed to play till mamma calls us. Bubbles, do you want to go?"</p> + +<p>Of course Bubbles did, and off they all went.</p> + +<p>The woodshed was at some distance from the house, out in a shady place. +Sometimes the children took to the roof, which could be reached by a +ladder, and it was the scene of many a bold adventure.</p> + +<p>"What shall we play?" said one to another.</p> + +<p>"Injun," suggested Bubbles.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span></p> + +<p>"No Indian for me, since my foot was cut," said Dimple.</p> + +<p>"Let's play house afire and climb from the roof by the ladder," said +Florence.</p> + +<p>"No. I tell you," said Dimple, "let's be cats and get on the roof and +meow like they do at night."</p> + +<p>They all laughed at this, but finally concluded to be birds, and build +nests, but why they should take leaves in their mouths and climb up and +down the ladder no mortal could tell, and indeed this proved too tedious +a play, and they all sat on the roof to decide what should be done next.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Dimple cried out, "What is that sticking out of your pocket, +Bubbles?"</p> + +<p>Bubbles quickly thrust whatever it was back into her pocket, and was +about to get down from the roof, when Dimple held her.</p> + +<p>"Pull it out, Florence," she cried. "I believe it is a piece of my +dotted swiss."</p> + +<p>And so it was. Bubbles had been consumed with envy ever since Rubina and +Celestine had been dressed in white, and wanted her doll to look as +well.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span></p> + +<p>"You wicked girl! where did you get it?" asked Dimple, fiercely.</p> + +<p>"Found it."</p> + +<p>"You didn't. You've been stealing. You stole it from my box that I left +on the porch yesterday. What were you going to do with it?"</p> + +<p>"Make a frock for Floridy Alabamy."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you ask for something, instead of taking what didn't belong +to you?"</p> + +<p>Bubbles was silent.</p> + +<p>"You told a story too, when you said you found it; you knew it was mine. +Now you shall be punished."</p> + +<p>"Don't send me to the orphan asylum," said Bubbles, beginning to cry.</p> + +<p>"No, I promised mamma I wouldn't say that any more, but I shall do +something. The idea of your doing such a thing. I really used to think +you were nearly as nice as a white girl, Bubbles, but I never shall any +more."</p> + +<p>Bubbles cried harder than ever at this.</p> + +<p>"What shall I do with her, Florence?"</p> + +<p>"Take her doll away," suggested she.</p> + +<p>"No! no! no! please, Miss Dimple, I'll never do so no mo'," cried +Bubbles, "'deed an' 'deed, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span> won't. Don't take my doll away. Yuh can +whup me, or anything, but don't tek my doll away," and she hugged it +tightly, rocking herself to and fro.</p> + +<p>Dimple thought a moment, and then she said, "I know, we will leave her +here on the roof, and take the ladder away; then when mamma calls us to +come in to dress we can put the ladder up again, and she can get down."</p> + +<p>This was agreed upon, and Bubbles was left a lofty prisoner.</p> + +<p>The girls concluded to play under the big tree, and became so +interested, that when Mrs. Dallas called them, they forgot all about +Bubbles, and went into the house without ever putting up the ladder.</p> + +<p>"What am I to wear, mamma?" asked Dimple. "One of my white frocks, I +suppose."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said her mother.</p> + +<p>"And Florence too? Yes, Florence, then we will all be in white, the +dolls too. Mamma, may we carry our parasols?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think you will need them. Now, girls, I will send papa for you +at half-past eight. I hope you will be little ladies, both of you, +because I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span> particularly want Mrs. Hardy to be fond of you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, we will, mamma," replied Dimple. "Why do you want Mrs. Hardy to +like us?"</p> + +<p>"I have two or three reasons. I will tell you when we have more time. +Hurry, Florence, and put on your frock; it is nearly half-past four."</p> + +<p>"I hear a carriage stopping," said Dimple, running to look out of the +window. "Florence, Florence, do hurry; Rock and his mother are out there +in a carriage; where are the dolls? Oh, here they are. No, I have +yours," she exclaimed, excitedly. "Do, Florence, get your hat."</p> + +<p>"Don't get so excited, Dimple," said her mamma. "There is no need of +such a very great hurry as all that. I will go down and you can come. +You have forgotten your handkerchief; it is there on the bureau."</p> + +<p>"Oh Dimple, do get me a handkerchief too," said Florence, "I don't know +what does make me so behindhand."</p> + +<p>"Perfume, Florence?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, please, just a wee drop, not too much."</p> + +<p>"Cologne or violet water?"</p> + +<p>"Which have you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span></p> + +<p>"Cologne."</p> + +<p>"Then I will take the other. Now I'm ready. Do you suppose we are going +anywhere? It is such a little way to drive only to the house."</p> + +<p>"I don't know," returned Dimple. "We'll soon see."</p> + +<p>"We thought it was so early," said Mrs. Hardy, "that we could take a +short drive before tea, if these little girls would like it."</p> + +<p>"Indeed we should," said they.</p> + +<p>"Then help them in, Rock," and they were soon seated, driving off in +great style, dolls and all.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Bubbles sat on the roof, waiting for their return. As the +time passed and they did not come, she made desperate efforts to get +down, but there was no way. The tree that shaded the woodhouse was just +too high to reach, and she crept to the edge of the roof, making up her +mind to jump, but when she saw the distance her heart failed her, and +she went back.</p> + +<p>"Leave me hyah all night I s'pose," she said, "mebbe I'll ketch cold and +die; 'most wisht I would."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span></p> + +<p>Then she heard some one call "Bubbles, Bubbles," but though she +answered, no one came.</p> + +<p>It grew later and later, the sun went down, and the sky sent up little +puffs of pink clouds overhead.</p> + +<p>Bubbles lay down on her back, and looked up at the sky. After a while a +little star peeped out, then disappeared again, like a baby playing +"Peep-bo."</p> + +<p>"Angels, I reckon," thought Bubbles. "S'pose I won't git to see 'em. I +reckon stealin's awful," and she lay there in a very humble frame of +mind, till she went to sleep.</p> + +<p>"I cannot imagine what has become of Bubbles," said Mrs. Dallas to her +husband when he came in. "I have looked the house over, and called her +in every room. She cannot have followed the children. I never knew her +to stay away before."</p> + +<p>"Hasn't Sylvy seen her?"</p> + +<p>"Not since early in the afternoon. She has looked all over the place." +And so she had, but Bubbles asleep on the roof did not hear her, and a +limb of the tree on that side hid her from view.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span></p> + +<p>"There is no reason for her running off, is there?" asked Mr. Dallas.</p> + +<p>"No, unless Dimple has threatened her with the orphan asylum once too +often. She has such a horror of it, but I told Dimple not to do so +again, and she is not apt to disobey."</p> + +<p>They sat down to tea, and it was not till an hour later that Bubbles was +rescued. Mr. Dallas was walking about, smoking his cigar, when he heard +a doleful voice saying,</p> + +<p>"Lordy, Lordy, I'm awful bad, just as well go to the orphan asylum. I'll +die hyah, plum sho'."</p> + +<p>He listened, and walked a few steps further.</p> + +<p>"Wisht I was a bird, I'd get up in that tree. Wisht I had a raven to +bring me my supper—s'pose I'll starve and die too."</p> + +<p>"Bubbles, where are you?" called Mr. Dallas. He heard a scrambling +overhead, and a delighted reply.</p> + +<p>"Hyah, sah, hyah I are."</p> + +<p>He looked all around, but did not see her.</p> + +<p>"Where are you?" he asked again.</p> + +<p>"On de roof, sah."</p> + +<p>"Well, why don't you get down?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ain't no way, sah; done tucken de ladder away."</p> + +<p>Mr. Dallas found the ladder and put it up, and Bubbles scrambled down.</p> + +<p>"Have you been up there all this time?"</p> + +<p>"Yas, sah," said Bubbles, scraping one foot with the bare toes of the +other.</p> + +<p>"How came the ladder down?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Dimple done did it."</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>Bubbles hung her head, and began scraping the other foot.</p> + +<p>"What for?" again asked Mr. Dallas.</p> + +<p>"I done stole," said Bubbles, solemnly.</p> + +<p>"And she did it to punish you?"</p> + +<p>"Yas, sah."</p> + +<p>Mr. Dallas could not avoid smiling, but he said, "Go along into the +house, and tell Mrs. Dallas about it. By the way, didn't you see any one +looking for you?"</p> + +<p>"No, sah. I was clean tuckered a waitin', and I went to sleep. 'Specs +they came then mebbe."</p> + +<p>"Well, go along," he said, and Bubbles started for the house, while he +went to bring home the girls.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2><h3>The Tea-Party</h3> +</div> + +<p>When the carriage left the house Mrs. Hardy directed the driver to go +through one of the pleasant roads leading from the town.</p> + +<p>"Which is your favorite drive, Dimple?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Pleasant Valley and Big Run," answered she. "Don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>"I hardly know," said Mrs. Hardy. "I have been around so little; you +will have to be our guide and tell us the pretty places."</p> + +<p>Dimple felt quite important, and chatted away at a great rate.</p> + +<p>"Didn't Rock make our dolls pretty hats?" she asked. "Mrs. Hardy, I wish +he were my brother. He couldn't be, could he? Even if he could only be +my cousin, I should like it."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hardy looked at Rock, who laughed and said, "That is more likely +than the other."</p> + +<p>"I don't see how," said Dimple.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</a></span></p> + +<p>"You will see," said Rock. But at a look from his mother he was silent.</p> + +<p>They leaned back on the soft cushions, breathing the sweet air, spicy +with the scent of the pines through which they were driving.</p> + +<p>At Big Run they all begged to get out, to see if there were any fish in +the water. They clambered about on the bank and over the stones, till +Mrs. Hardy told them it was too late to stop longer, and they drove +toward town.</p> + +<p>After they had reached the house where Rock and his mother were +boarding, they took off their hats and were ready for tea. They wondered +if they were all to sit with Mrs. Brisk's family at the table, and +dreaded it a little. However, when Rock said, "Come this way, girls," +they were a little mystified, for he took them out into the garden.</p> + +<p>Under a trellised summerhouse there was set a little table for three, +and on the bench a very small table with two little chairs.</p> + +<p>"That is for the dolls," explained Rock.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rock!" exclaimed the girls. "Where did they come from? Did you make +them?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said he. "Do you like them?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span></p> + +<p>"They are perfect," said Florence. "Dimple, do see how nicely Celestine +sits up to the table."</p> + +<p>"And Rubina, too," said Dimple, as she took off her doll's hat. "Don't +they look lovely? Look, Rock. What a boy you are."</p> + +<p>Rock laughed, and they turned to their own table, which had a tiny +bouquet by each plate and a pyramid of fruit in the centre.</p> + +<p>The long drive had given them all an appetite, and they did full justice +to the croquettes, muffins and fried potatoes before they thought of the +jelly, fruit and cake.</p> + +<p>"How will we get our chairs and table home?" said Florence.</p> + +<p>"I will take them to-morrow," said Rock.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said Dimple. "It was enough for you to make them, without +taking them home, too."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Rock, "if the cabinetmaker can't take home his own goods, I +think it is a pity."</p> + +<p>The girls laughed, and so the matter rested.</p> + +<p>"What shall we do now?" asked Rock. "Will you look at pictures, or play +games, or what?"</p> + +<p>Dimple looked at Florence, and Florence looked at Dimple.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span></p> + +<p>"I think pictures are nice in winter, when you can't be out of doors," +said Florence, who never could get enough of out of doors.</p> + +<p>So they concluded to play out of doors.</p> + +<p>"What nice long grass this is," said Dimple. "We could almost hide +ourselves. We might play we were rabbits, and hop about and make nests."</p> + +<p>"Let's hide ourselves," cried Florence. "I speak for first count.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"'Onery Twoery,<br /> +Dickery Day,<br /> +Illava, Lullava,<br /> +Lackava Lay,<br /> +One condemn the American line.<br /> +Umny Bumny,<br /> +Twenty-nine.<br /> +Fillason, Folloson,<br /> +Nicholas John.<br /> +Queevy, Quavy,<br /> +English Navy,<br /> +Signum, Sangnum,<br /> +Buck!'</p></div> + +<p>"You're out," she sang out to Rock and then went again rapidly over the +count, making herself "It."</p> + +<p>Then Dimple and Rock stole softly off to hide<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span> themselves, while +Florence covered her eyes by a tree.</p> + +<p>"Whoop!" called Dimple, presently.</p> + +<p>"Whoop!" called Rock, a moment later.</p> + +<p>And Florence went in search of them, but before she found them, she +discovered something else and called out:</p> + +<p>"Rock! Dimple! Come here, quick. I have found something so funny and +cunning."</p> + +<p>Out of their nests started the children to see Florence standing over +another nest in a trellis, in which was a family of little baby wrens, +opening their small beaks and clamoring to be fed.</p> + +<p>"Sh! Sh!" Dimple said, softly. "Don't let's scare them, poor little +things. See, there is the mother bird. She is distressed because we have +found her babies. Oh Rock, don't let any one else know they are here, +for they might hurt them."</p> + +<p>"Let us go away now," said Rock, in a whisper. "The poor mother bird is +flying around, and is so troubled. She doesn't know that we wouldn't +harm her little ones for anything." So they tiptoed away and left the +mother in possession.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span></p> + +<p>"What kind of bird was it?" Florence asked, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"Why, don't you know? That was Jenny Wren," returned Dimple, more +accustomed to creatures of woods and fields.</p> + +<p>"Was it really Jenny Wren?" exclaimed Florence, delightedly. "I'm so +glad I've seen her."</p> + +<p>"Didn't you ever see her before? You have heard Mr. Wren sing, haven't +you? Oh, how he sings! I think house-wrens are such dear, dear birds. We +always put up boxes and cans and such things for them, for we like to +have them around, and they can build their nests in quite small places. +The other big birds try to drive them away sometimes, but we always try +to protect them. Mamma says Jenny Wren is a very neat housekeeper, and +takes excellent care of her family. They are such friendly little birds. +I love them better than any others."</p> + +<p>"Do you believe you have any wrens' nests near the house, this year?" +Florence asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, ever so many. I know just where to look for them. I'll +show you some to-morrow. There's one in the funniest place.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span> You know +where the bamboo shade is rolled up at the side of the front porch: +well, in one end of that a wren has built a nest, and mamma will not +have the shade let down till the little birds are ready to fly."</p> + +<p>Florence gave a sigh of content. She enjoyed such things so heartily, +and saw none of them in her city home.</p> + +<p>"I like the robins," put in Rock, "they are such cheerful fellows. +Listen to that one whistle. Doesn't it remind you of juicy cherries?"</p> + +<p>Dimple laughed. "Yes, and don't they love cherries! I believe they eat +half on our trees, and they always pick out the very finest ones."</p> + +<p>"Of course. So would you, if you were a robin," Rock returned. "Speaking +of birds, Florence, have you ever watched the swallows—the chimney +swifts—come home? It's a sight."</p> + +<p>"No, I never saw them. Are there any here?" returned Florence, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Lots of them. They build in that old chimney, and they come every year +on a certain day of the month. They seem to have a sort of system in the +way they circle around, and go down the chimney; just as if they were +regularly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span> drilled for it. It's about time for them now. Suppose we sit +here and watch them."</p> + +<p>This they did, and when the last belated swallow had dropped down into +the tall old chimney, they went up to the house where Mrs. Hardy was +waiting for them, and where they were glad to listen to her tales of +California; its big trees, its fine fruits, and the lovely flowers that +grow wild there; and she told many funny tales of the Chinese, till Mr. +Dallas made his appearance, and with regretful good-byes they took their +leave.</p> + +<p>All this time the girls had not once remembered Bubbles. They were +having such a good time, and it was not till they were on their way +home, when Mr. Dallas questioned them, that they thought of how they had +left her on the roof.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Hardy is just lovely, mamma," said Dimple, when they reached home. +"I hope she liked me, for I liked her, and, oh mamma! I am so sorry +about Bubbles."</p> + +<p>"I am glad you like Mrs. Hardy," said her mother, "but the next time +Bubbles does wrong, I hope you will tell me, and not punish her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span> +yourself. You must remember that she is only a little ignorant, colored +girl, and that it is no wonder she wants what you have, for you have +played with her, and been with her so much. Of course it was wrong for +her to take anything without leave. Were you and Florence good girls?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think so. Mamma, what did Rock mean when he said he was more +likely to be my cousin than my brother?"</p> + +<p>"Did he say that?" said Mrs. Dallas, smiling. "Well, so you are."</p> + +<p>"Mamma, I don't understand."</p> + +<p>"No. I know you don't. You will in a few days. Now go to bed."</p> + +<p>"Florence," said Dimple, after they were in bed. "There is another +secret somewhere, and I cannot puzzle it out. Mamma wants Mrs. Hardy to +be fond of me, and Rock is likely to be my cousin, and all that."</p> + +<p>"I can't imagine," answered Florence, sleepily.</p> + +<p>"I don't see into it," said Dimple, after thinking a while. "Florence, +are you asleep?"</p> + +<p>But Florence made no answer, having by that time arrived in dreamland, +and Dimple soon followed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span> her, dreaming that she was feeding the little +wrens on croquettes, and was taking her doll to drive in California, +when a big tree came up to her, and insisted on shaking hands, because +it said it was her cousin. She laughed right out in her sleep, and +frightened a little mouse back into its hole.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>When the two little girls ran down to breakfast the next morning, they +wore very happy faces, for Dimple had just discovered that her birthday +was only a week off, and she and Florence had been planning for it.</p> + +<p>"Papa always does something very specially nice for me," Dimple had just +announced, "and I always have a lovely birthday-cake with icing and +candles. Mamma makes it herself, because I always think it tastes better +when she does. And she lets me choose what we are to have for dinner. +You tell what you like best, Florence, and we'll have that."</p> + +<p>"I like fried chicken better than anything, except, of course, ice cream +and cake."</p> + +<p>"So do I. I'm so glad you like what I do, and I'm very glad my birthday +is in June, for it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span> is such a rosy month, and we can have strawberries +with the ice cream. There are so many good things to eat in June; +strawberries, and peas, and asparagus and—oh, I don't know what all." +This conversation took place before breakfast, and Dimple was sitting on +the floor hugging her knees, and looking as contented as it was possible +to be.</p> + +<p>They were still talking on the important subject when they entered the +dining-room.</p> + +<p>"What's all this about birthdays?" asked Mr. Dallas, looking up from his +morning paper.</p> + +<p>"Why, papa, don't you know my birthday will be next week?" returned +Dimple, as she went up to give him his morning kiss. "Aren't you glad?" +she added.</p> + +<p>"Is it an occasion for great joyfulness? I'm not so sure of that. Don't +you know it makes mamma feel very serious to have a daughter eight—or +is it nine—years old? And as for myself, I begin to feel the grey hairs +popping out all over my head at the very thought of it."</p> + +<p>"I shall be nine years old. But, papa, you are always making out that +you are old and that makes me feel sorry. I don't see a single grey<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span> +hair. People are not very old till they are forty, at least, are they?"</p> + +<p>"Well, no, but they are rather decrepit when they reach such extreme old +age as that—Uncle Heath is forty you know, and see what a tottering old +man he is."</p> + +<p>"Now, papa, you are laughing at me. I don't believe you'll have grey +hairs for years and years."</p> + +<p>"They are starting, I am sure. However, we'll change the subject, if you +wish. What do you expect me to give you on that festal day? Not another +doll, surely?"</p> + +<p>"No—I don't know—perhaps."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are insatiable as to dolls. I believe if any one were to give +you a dozen at Christmas you would be glad to have a dozen more on New +Years. I don't believe Florence is so doll-crazy."</p> + +<p>"Yes, she is. Aren't you, Florence?"</p> + +<p>Florence nodded.</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless," continued Mr. Dallas, "I'll promise no doll this time. +Shall it be books? Perhaps we'd better consult mamma. Come to think of +it, I had an idea about this same birthday.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span> It seems to me I thought it +wouldn't be a bad plan to provide some amusement for rainy days."</p> + +<p>The two little girls looked at each other, and Dimple hung her head.</p> + +<p>"What do you think?" Mr. Dallas asked, quizzically. "It seems to me that +I have heard that the rain produces a singularly bad effect upon two +little girls I know."</p> + +<p>"Yes, papa, we were horrid, especially one time. We didn't know what to +do, and so—and so——"</p> + +<p style='padding-left: 3em'> +<span style='margin-left: 0em;'>"'Satan found some mischief still<br /></span> +<span style='margin-left: 0em;'>For idle hands to do;'<br /></span> +</p> + +<p>was that the way of it?"</p> + +<p>Dimple glanced at Florence shamefacedly. "Yes, papa, I'm afraid it was +just that way," she replied, meekly.</p> + +<p>"Well, as I said before, I think it wouldn't be a bad plan to provide +against such trouble. Perhaps that birthday will show you a way out of +future difficulty."</p> + +<p>And so it proved, for on her birthday morning the secret of the little +house was revealed.</p> + +<p>"You must wait till after breakfast to see your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span> birthday gifts, +daughter," Mrs. Dallas said, as Dimple came bounding into the room to +receive her nine kisses.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma, why? I always have them the first thing. Do tell me where +they are. Downstairs or up here?"</p> + +<p>"Downstairs, in one sense, but they are not in the house at all."</p> + +<p>Dimple's eyes opened wide. "Not in the house? Florence, just listen. +There is a great secret. Oh, dear, how can I wait?"</p> + +<p>"Well, dearie," returned her mother, "the sooner you are dressed the +sooner the secret will come. See, I am nearly ready to go down."</p> + +<p>"Please help me, just this morning, mamma. It will make it so much +easier, and it's my birthday, you know."</p> + +<p>"Very well, since you are the person of importance to-day, I will help +you."</p> + +<p>"Hurry up, Florence," cried Dimple. "Come in here and I'll fasten your +buttons while mamma does mine; then we'll get through all the sooner."</p> + +<p>Although Dimple, the day before, had carefully selected the day's bill +of fare, the breakfast was scarcely tasted, her favorite waffles +offering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span> no inducement for her to linger over them, so great was her +excitement, and she watched eagerly till her father pushed back his +chair, and declared himself ready for orders. It seemed to Dimple that +he had never had such an appetite before, and she watched with anxious +interest as he helped himself to waffles from each plateful that Bubbles +brought in. There was a twinkle in his eyes as Dimple at last heaved a +long sigh, and he immediately arose and led the way through the garden +to the little new house between the house and the stable.</p> + +<p>"We'll look in here," he remarked, as he unlocked the door.</p> + +<p>Although Dimple had been quite curious to see the inside of the "house +for little chicks," she was rather disappointed at the delay, for she +thought, perhaps, her papa had something for her in the stable, a fox +terrier, or maybe a goat, since she had expressed a wish for both. But +when the door of the little house was opened her surprise was so great +that she gave expression to one long-drawn "Oh-h!" and looked from one +to the other half bewildered.</p> + +<p>For, instead of a brooder and an "inkybator,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span> she saw before her the +dearest little room with white curtains at the window, a rug upon the +floor, a small cooking stove in one corner, a table, chairs, and all to +suit a little girl. Upon the shelves were ranged plates, cups, saucers +and dishes, and a cupboard in the corner looked as if it might hold +other necessary things for housekeeping. Moreover, her family of dolls +sat along in a row on the window-seat, looking as expectant as is the +nature of dolls to look.</p> + +<p>"Well, Dot, how do you like it?" asked Mr. Dallas, smiling down at the +child whose color came and went in her fair little face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, papa! Oh, papa! is it truly my house?" she asked, clasping him +closely.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is truly yours. I thought a rainy day house might help to keep +our little chicks out of mischief, because here they can peep as loud as +they choose and it will not disturb any one."</p> + +<p>"You said it was for little chicks, and I never once thought you meant +us. Did you, Florence? It is lovely, lovely. Oh, papa, you are too +good."</p> + +<p>"I think it is a matter of self-defence, for if you and Florence are so +ambitious as to take violent possession of your neighbors' houses, it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span> +seemed to me there would be no end of complaints, and the best way to +prevent further housebreaking was to give you a house where you could +cook and sweep and exercise your domestic tastes to your hearts' +content."</p> + +<p>Dimple understood all this banter, and she laughingly said, "Florence, +we are like the birds that try to take the wrens' houses to live in. But +now we have a nest of our own we won't do it any more, papa. Thank you +so much. It is the most lovely surprise I ever had in all my life."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you like your house, Mistress Eleanor Dallas; but, dear me, I +can't stand here chattering. I must be off."</p> + +<p>Dimple gave him an ecstatic parting hug, and returned to a survey of her +house.</p> + +<p>"Papa gives you the house, and I the furniture," her mother told her. +"You must try to keep the place neat and clean. Of course, Bubbles can +help you, sometimes, but I want you to learn to take care of it yourself +and to be a good housekeeper."</p> + +<p>"Like Jenny Wren. Oh, yes, mamma, I will try. Florence, we'll put up +boxes for the wrens, up there by the door, and maybe they will come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</a></span> and +build. Mamma, may we have our ice cream and cake out here this +afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you like, and you may go over and ask Rock Hardy to come, and +Leila and Eugene Clark too, if you like to have them. That will make +quite a nice little party. You can use your own dishes, and have all the +fun you choose."</p> + +<p>"Won't that be fine!" cried Dimple, softly clapping her hands. "Shall we +go now?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, unless you would rather wait."</p> + +<p>"No, I'd rather go now, so I won't have to think about it, for I shall +not want to leave my house to-day; it is so dear and cunning. And, +Florence, when we come back, we'll gather some flowers and make +everything look as pretty as possible. Just think, we'll be like +grown-up ladies, with a house, and a servant, and—oh, mamma, please let +Bubbles wear a cap."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dallas laughed. "I don't believe we will insist upon that, but you +can rig up one for her if you like, when she is out here. Now I must go +in."</p> + +<p>"Come, Florence, we'll go and invite the company, and get that over +with, and then we'll have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span> nothing to interrupt us the rest of the day," +said Dimple. "Won't it be fine to come out here on rainy days and make +all the noise we want. What time shall we tell the children to come?" +she called after her mother, who was just stepping off the little porch.</p> + +<p>"At four o'clock, I think."</p> + +<p>"That's the time Rock had his tea-party," said Dimple. "I am glad we can +invite him to our feast, because we had such a nice time over there. I +wonder if he knows anything about this being our little house. If he +doesn't, won't he be surprised!"</p> + +<p>It proved that Rock didn't know, and he was as interested as any one +could wish;—so much so, indeed, that he begged to go over at once to +see it, and his mother allowed him to do so.</p> + +<p>"My! but it's fine," he declared, examining both outside and in. "You +might have a pretty little garden out here, and plant some vines to grow +over the porch."</p> + +<p>"So we might," Dimple responded, "I never thought of that. It will make +the little porch so much prettier. Just think, I never dreamed that it +was being built for me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span></p> + +<p>"Your father is awfully good," returned Rock, adding soberly, "I hope it +runs in the family."</p> + +<p>Dimple laughed, but looked sober herself, immediately after. "I'm afraid +I'll never be as good as papa and mamma, for I do horrid things," she +said. She looked at Florence wistfully, then lifted one of her cousin's +soft auburn curls, and laid her cheek against it; to which Florence +responded by giving her a sudden kiss. They both remembered that day in +the garret.</p> + +<p>Rock became so interested in the idea of a garden, that, after Mrs. +Dallas's consent was gained, he spent most of the day in digging up a +little patch in which the children planted a remarkable collection of +plants, both wild and cultivated. They even put in some corn, so as to +have roasting ears, Dimple said, and a pumpkin seed, because she liked +pumpkin pies.</p> + +<p>They were so busy all day that they were scarcely willing to go in to +prepare for their feast.</p> + +<p>Leila and Eugene Clark were properly impressed with the new house; yet, +with the others, were quite ready to stop their play that they might do +justice to the big cake with its nine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span> candles, and its wreath of +flowers; while the amount of ice cream eaten showed plainly that the +refreshments were quite to the taste of the guests. Leila brought Dimple +a box of candy, and Eugene presented her with a bunch of beautiful +roses. Rock, too, although he hardly could spare the time to rush home +and get his gift for her, had something to donate; an exquisite little +fan with carved ivory sticks, that he said was made in China, and which +his mother had bought in California. Mrs. Hardy added to the gift a +dainty pink sash, and Florence had struggled in secret to make Rubina a +new frock, and had succeeded very well. So Dimple felt herself +bountifully remembered.</p> + +<p>"It's been just the very happiest day I ever had," said the little girl +as she stood in her white night gown, ready for bed.</p> + +<p>"I ought to be a very, very good girl, mamma; and I have done so many +naughty things lately, but I didn't think."</p> + +<p>"Didn't Think is a bad enemy to most little girls," said Mrs. Dallas, +holding her daughter's fair head against her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Did <i>you</i> have to fight him?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span></p> + +<p>"I did, indeed."</p> + +<p>"That's a comfort. Perhaps when I grow up, I may be a little weeny, +weeny bit like you, darling mamsey. Please give me nine more kisses."</p> + +<p>"One on your forehead; one on each cheek; one on each eyelid; one +between the eyes; one on your chin; one on your mouth, and where shall I +put the other?"</p> + +<p>"Here, in the tickley place under my chin. Now say 'my blessed child'; +that always makes me feel good, and then I'll pop into bed."</p> + +<p>But the head was no sooner on the pillow than it was bobbed up again, +and there came the whisper, "Mamma, please kiss Florence more than one +time, and call her something nice." And when this was done, two very +tired, but very happy, little girls kissed each other, and in a few +moments were fast asleep.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2><h3>Housekeepers</h3> +</div> + +<p>"Mamma," said Dimple, with her elbows on the arm of her mother's chair, +"what are you thinking about so hard? You have a little puckery frown +between your eyes, whenever you look at Florence and me. What have we +been doing?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," replied Mrs. Dallas, smiling. "I was wondering if it would be +wise to leave you two alone here with Bubbles for a day. Mrs. Hardy +wants me to go to the city with her to-morrow, and I promised Sylvy some +time ago that she should have the day; she wants to go off on an +excursion, and has been making great preparations. I could not have the +heart to disappoint her, and your papa will not be at home for another +week, so I am very doubtful about leaving you."</p> + +<p>"Oh! do go, mamma," cried Dimple, clapping her hands. "We can keep house +beautifully, can't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span> we, Florence?—and it will be such fun. Do go, +there's a darling. We'll be just as grown-up as possible, and do +anything you tell us."</p> + +<p>"And you will not be afraid?"</p> + +<p>"Not in the least. We'll have Bubbles, you know, and she can run awfully +fast, if we get ill, and want the doctor," replied Dimple, cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"I hope no such effort will be needed on Bubbles' part. You must not +turn the house upside down, nor empty all the trunks and chests upon the +floor of the attic."</p> + +<p>"Now, mamma," exclaimed Dimple, reproachfully, "why do you remind us of +that?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dallas laughed at the woe-begone tone.</p> + +<p>"That you may remember not to do it again," she replied; then she added, +"Well, I'll think about it a little longer. I promised to let Mrs. Hardy +know this afternoon. Now run along and let me think."</p> + +<p>"You will tell us as soon as you make up your mind," said Dimple, as she +left the room with Florence.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; don't keep me any longer from my 'think.'"</p> + +<p>"Don't you hope she will go?" asked Florence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span> "I think it would be lots +of fun to have the house all to ourselves for a whole day. What shall we +do, Dimple?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, there will be lots to do," replied Dimple, importantly. "There will +be the beds to make, and the house to put in order, and dinner to get. +Oh, Florence! What shall we have for dinner? What should you like?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, exactly; baked custards are nice."</p> + +<p>"Yes," assented Dimple, doubtfully, "but I'm afraid we couldn't manage +to make them just right; they seem sort of hard; and you don't like +huckleberry pudding."</p> + +<p>"Then let's have apple 'cobbler;' we both like that."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and it is easy, at least I think it is, just crust and apples. +Well, we'll have that. I do wish mamma would hurry up and tell us."</p> + +<p>The two established themselves on the lowest step, as near as possible +to the library, where Mrs. Dallas was sitting.</p> + +<p>"Don't make such a noise," said Dimple, as Florence, to while away the +time, began to sing; "you will keep mamma from thinking. Just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span> let's +whisper." So for a half hour or more a little whispering sound went on, +interspersed by stifled laughter. Then at the noise of Mrs. Dallas' hand +upon the door knob, the two girls sprang to their feet.</p> + +<p>"Hurry up, mamma, tell us," cried Dimple, as the door opened.</p> + +<p>"When you give me a chance," replied Mrs. Dallas, smiling. "I am going. +Does that please you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! oh!" cried the two, dancing up and down.</p> + +<p>"How flattering you are," said Mrs. Dallas, laughing; "I never had +pleasure so fully shown for such a cause. So you will be delighted to +get rid of me?"</p> + +<p>"Now mamma! Now auntie!" came in chorus. "It isn't that at all, but it +will be such fun, and we are going to make an 'apple cobbler' for +dinner."</p> + +<p>"Are you! Who said so?"</p> + +<p>"Why, mayn't we?" asked Dimple, somewhat taken aback.</p> + +<p>"Who will make it?"</p> + +<p>"Why, we will, of course. I've seen Sylvy do it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span> often, and I know +exactly how. Do, do let us, mamma."</p> + +<p>It seemed too bad to dampen their ardor, and Mrs. Dallas, rather +dubiously, consented, but charged them not to eat under cooked dough, or +raw apples.</p> + +<p>Every one was up betimes the next morning. Sylvy had set everything in +readiness for breakfast, and had taken an early departure, and Mrs. +Dallas was to leave on the nine o'clock train.</p> + +<p>"I shall be back by eight o'clock," she told the children. "Don't set +the house afire, and don't make yourselves ill."</p> + +<p>"Now, don't worry over us," said Dimple, loftily; "we shall do finely."</p> + +<p>But she did feel a little sinking of heart as her mamma's form was lost +to view, and the two girls turned from the gate.</p> + +<p>"I wish Rock were not going with them," remarked Dimple. "It would be +nice to have him here."</p> + +<p>"I don't think it would," replied Florence; "we'd have to entertain him, +and maybe he doesn't like 'apple cobbler.'"</p> + +<p>"That is true," returned Dimple, her spirits<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span> rising at the suggestion +of some active employment. "Now let us go and make the beds, while +Bubbles does the dishes." And they set to work, with much chattering, to +follow out this duty.</p> + +<p>"There, now, it looks as neat as possible," pronounced Dimple, as she +closed the shutters to keep out the glaring sun. "Just hang up that +towel that has fallen down, Florence, and then we'll go downstairs and +shut up the rest of the house; by that time Bubbles will be through her +work, and we can all play till it is time to get dinner."</p> + +<p>Bubbles had just emptied her dish-pan and was about to scour the knives +when they entered the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"Hurry up, Bubbles," said Dimple, "so we can all go out and play. We +want you to take care of Celestine and Rubina, while we go out shopping. +Mamma said we might use the pieces in this," holding out a calico bag. +"That is, we are just going to roll them up and have them for dry goods. +The dry goods shop is to be at the end of the porch, where the bench is. +We have cut out a great big newspaper man to sell the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span> goods. We'll have +to pin him against the railing, Florence, or he won't stand up, he is so +limp. Isn't he fine and tall? His name is Mr. Star, because we cut him +out of the <i>Evening Star</i>."</p> + +<p>Their play proved to be so very interesting that it was after twelve +o'clock before the little housekeepers remembered that they had a dinner +to prepare, and that the making and baking of their apple pie would take +some time. Then it appeared that Bubbles, in her haste to join the play, +had forgotten the fire, which was nearly out.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, we'll put in some wood," concluded Dimple, cheerfully. +"I've seen Sylvy do it lots of times, to hurry up the oven. Run, +Bubbles, and get some wood. Then you can pare the apples, while I make +the crust."</p> + +<p>"Let me pare the apples," suggested Florence; "it is such fun to put +them on that little thing and turn the crank, while the skin comes off +so easily."</p> + +<p>"Well, you do that," agreed Dimple. "And Bubbles can set the table."</p> + +<p>"Why doesn't this apple go right?" said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span> Florence. "It wabbles around so +and—there!—it has gone bouncing off to the other side of the kitchen; +how provoking!"</p> + +<p>"It is a sort of 'skew-jawed' one," pronounced Dimple. "I can never do +anything with those on the parer. Pick out the ones that are perfectly +round and smooth, and they will go all right. I wonder how much +shortening I ought to put in. Does that look like enough to you?"</p> + +<p>Florence viewed the pan critically. "I don't know," she replied, +doubtfully. "I don't believe I know much about it; it looks like a +pretty big lump."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll call it enough," decided Dimple. "There, it is ready to roll +out. Somehow, it doesn't roll very easily."</p> + +<p>"Let me try," offered Florence, who, having finished paring the apples, +was watching her cousin.</p> + +<p>"It is not easy," she said, after banging away with the rolling-pin. +"Maybe Bubbles can do it; her arms are stronger;" and, after this third +effort, some sort of crust was ready, with which to line the pan.</p> + +<p>"It seems pretty thick," Dimple declared, looking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span> at it with a +dissatisfied eye; "but it is the best we can do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it will taste all right," encouraged Florence. "Now for the apples; +what else, Dimple?"</p> + +<p>"Sugar, and little bits of butter and—what else? Oh, yes, a little +sprinkling of flour. Now the top goes on, and it can go into the oven. I +wonder how long it will take to bake. It is one o'clock, and I am +beginning to get hungry.</p> + +<p>"The oven isn't very hot," she presently pronounced. "Put some more wood +in, Bubbles. Oh, what is the matter, Florence?" as an exclamation made +her turn in her cousin's direction.</p> + +<p>"I have burned my hand," said Florence, trying hard not to cry. "I wanted +to look at the fire, and when I lifted the lid, the steam from the +kettle came just where I put my hand. I didn't know steam could burn +so."</p> + +<p>"It is worse than anything else," informed Dimple. "It is too bad. I'll +get something to put on it, to take the burn out."</p> + +<p>"Kar'sene's mighty good," suggested Bubbles.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and so is flour; and linseed oil is good; that will be the best," +and the bottle being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</a></span> brought, the wounded hand was bound up and +Florence retired from action and sat on the step watching the others, +while she nursed her hurt.</p> + +<p>"Let me see," went on Dimple, bustling about. "We have chicken, and +bread and butter, and sliced tomatoes, and milk, and the 'cobbler.' It +is doing, Florence; it is beginning to brown."</p> + +<p>"I wish it would hurry up," Florence said. "I'm hungry, and, oh! how my +hand hurts."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it any better?"</p> + +<p>"A little; but it doesn't feel a bit good."</p> + +<p>"It is too bad," said Dimple, sympathetically, coming over and putting a +floury hand on her cousin's.</p> + +<p>"I smell the pie," she exclaimed, jumping up. "It must be burning," and +she ran to the oven.</p> + +<p>"Is it burned?" asked Florence, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"No, only just a weeny bit caught. I'll take it out. Doesn't it look +good?"</p> + +<p>Florence gave an admiring assent, and they proceeded to take their meal; +but alas!—when the pie was cut a mass of sticky dough and raw apple was +disclosed to the disappointment of them all.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to put it back and eat it after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">129</a></span> awhile," said Florence. "It +will taste just as good then."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and we can eat cake for dessert," and the pie was again placed in +the oven.</p> + +<p>Not long after, a rapping was heard at the side porch. "Who in the world +can that be around there!" exclaimed Dimple. "Go and see, Bubbles."</p> + +<p>Bubbles looked out, cautiously, for it was not the usual place for any +one to make an appearance. Presently she came back with big eyes and a +somewhat scared expression. "Hit's a man, Miss Dimple," she said, in an +excited whisper, "with a gre't big haid an' long hair, an' somethin' on +his back."</p> + +<p>Florence and Dimple looked at each other. "Let's peep and see," +whispered the latter, as the rapping, which had ceased, began again.</p> + +<p>They peeped timidly through the shutters. "He looks queer," said Dimple, +"maybe he is crazy."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" cried Florence, with a stifled scream, "maybe he is an escaped +lunatic. Dimple, let's lock all the doors, and hide," and the two ran +into the kitchen, barring and locking the door,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</a></span> and then raced upstairs +as fast as they could go, with Bubbles close following at their heels.</p> + +<p>Florence buried her face in the pillows and covered up her head with the +bed clothes; Bubbles crawled under the bed, then, as the rapping +continued louder than before, interspersed with calls of "Hey, there! +Hey, there!" Dimple, feeling very brave, opened the window and cried +out, "Go away!" then she shut down the window with a slam, and sprang +into the middle of the room with very red cheeks and a beating heart.</p> + +<p>After a little time all was quiet, and the three timidly ventured +downstairs to find the pie baked to such a crisp brownness, that it +barely escaped being called black. It was set aside to cool, and after a +short parley, the children set out to reconnoitre, armed with such +weapons as they thought most useful. Bubbles carried an axe, Florence a +bottle of ammonia, which she meant to throw in the face of the intruder +"to take his breath away," she declared; and Dimple bore a long rope and +a pair of large scissors. She intended, she said, to snip at the man if +he came near her, and, when he was overpowered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</a></span> by Florence's ammonia, +to bind him hand and foot with the rope.</p> + +<p>But, after a long and thorough search, no one was found about the +premises, and they all returned to the house to eat the "cobbler," which +by this time was cool.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't taste like Sylvy's," said Dimple. "I believe I forgot to put +any salt in the crust, and where it isn't hard it is tough; there! I +didn't put any water in it, of course there is scarcely any juice. I was +going to save some for mamma, but I don't think I shall. We'll give it +away to the first person we can," she continued to Florence.</p> + +<p>This happened to be an organ grinder, who made his appearance at the +gate. Bubbles was despatched with the message that they hadn't any +money, but there was some pie, and the organ grinder departed, whether +grateful or not, they did not learn.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me it has been a pretty long day," said Dimple, as the +afternoon wore on. "Five o'clock. Three hours before we can possibly +expect mamma. I should think she would get dreadfully tired of +housekeeping," she continued,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span> remembering her discouraging pie. "I +don't feel as if I wanted any supper, do you, Florence?"</p> + +<p>"Not now," replied Florence; "but your mamma will want some."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, Bubbles can attend to it," decided Dimple. "I'm tired of +seeing dishes and dabs. What shall we do next, Florence?"</p> + +<p>"We haven't cleared up the porch yet. Mr. Star is out there and all the +pieces."</p> + +<p>"Sure enough. Well, we'll get those put away, and then we can dress. I +wonder what became of the crazy man."</p> + +<p>"Why do you remind me of him?" said Florence, plaintively. "I had almost +forgotten, and now I shall dream of him."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe he was crazy," said Dimple. "I suppose he had something +to sell. I thought so at the time, but I began, to get scared and +couldn't stop. Roll up Mr. Star, Florence, we may want him again. There! +I have the bag and all the rest of the things. You bring Mr. Star and +the dolls."</p> + +<p>Just here came a "Hallo!" from around the corner of the house. The +children gave a suppressed scream which changed into a hearty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span> laugh +when Rock appeared; and with words tumbling over each other they began +to give a breathless recital of the day's experiences which amused Rock +vastly.</p> + +<p>"But how did you happen to be here?" the girls remembered at last to +ask. "We thought you had gone to the city."</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't go after all. Mr. Brisk was going off in the country, and +mamma gave me my choice of places, so I thought I'd not enjoy going +shopping very much, and I decided to go with Mr. Brisk. We got back +about half an hour ago, and I came over to see if you wouldn't go back +to the house with me. I want to show you something I found."</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Wait till you see."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid we oughtn't to leave the house," said Dimple.</p> + +<p>"Can't you lock it up? We won't be gone long, and I'll come back and +stay with you till your mother comes. Then I can walk home with my +mother, for she'll stop here first."</p> + +<p>"That will be very nice, but I don't believe we dare lock it up."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let Bubbles stay."</p> + +<p>But Bubbles' eyes nearly popped out of her head at this suggestion; and, +finally, after many plans Rock went over to the house of the man whom +Mr. Dallas employed to take care of the garden and stable, and he +promised to stay on the place to give Bubbles countenance, till the +others should return.</p> + +<p>"I've got a job over there, anyhow," he said, "though I mostly leaves +about this time, but I can do what I have to do as well now as in the +morning." Therefore the children felt perfectly safe in leaving Bubbles.</p> + +<p>Rock led the way to Mr. Brisk's workhouse. "What I've to show you is in +here," he said. The girls followed him somewhat timidly, but were +reassured when Rock drew out a box of shavings where, cuddled up, they +saw a cat and three little bits of kittens.</p> + +<p>"Oh! how cunning," cried Dimple, getting down on her knees. "You little +tootsy-wootsy, deary things. Aren't they soft? Oh! if we might have +them. There are three, just one a piece. Rock, don't you believe we +might have them?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span></p> + +<p>"We'll go and ask," said Rock, and they ran pell-mell into the house.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" said Mr. Brisk, starting up lest something were +wrong.</p> + +<p>"We are only going to ask Mrs. Brisk if we may have the kittens," they +cried, breathlessly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Brisk was standing in the hall, and heard their story.</p> + +<p>"Well! Well! Well!" she said. "If old Topple hasn't another lot of +kittens. Have them? To be sure you may, and welcome, when they are big +enough to take from their mother."</p> + +<p>The girls clapped their hands delightedly and went back to the little +blind things, who, with their tight shut eyes, were mewing and nosing +against each other.</p> + +<p>"Now let's choose," said Rock, after they had taken them out on the +grass where it was lighter. "Two black, and one black and white. If you +girls like the black ones best I'll take the other, or if either of you +like that best, I'll take one of the black ones."</p> + +<p>So, after much talking, Dimple chose a black one, and Florence the black +and white, while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span> Rock expressed himself delighted with the other black +one as really what he liked the best.</p> + +<p>"I shall name mine Jet," said he.</p> + +<p>"And mine I'll name Onyx, and call it Nyxy for short," said Dimple.</p> + +<p>"And mine shall be Marble," said Florence.</p> + +<p>So that question being decided they left them, "like birds in their +nest," said Dimple, and started for home, for it was growing late.</p> + +<p>"We couldn't carry the kittens home to-night, anyhow," said Florence; +"but I do hope we can see them often, and that I can take mine home."</p> + +<p>She did take it home, and it grew to be a big cat; though before she +went, the children often laughed to see Rock coming in with the three +little things in a basket, bringing them over for a visit. He did this +several times, taking them back to their mother, until one day they came +to stay.</p> + +<p>Although time dragged, eight o'clock did come at last, and the hour +brought Mrs. Dallas.</p> + +<p>"And you are really glad to have me back again," she said, with an arm +around each little girl, "though you were so glad to have me go. And how +did the pie turn out?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span></p> + +<p>"It wasn't good," admitted Dimple, candidly; "so we gave it to an +organ-grinder."</p> + +<p>"What charitable, generous children, to be sure," laughed Mrs. Dallas. +"By the way, Dimple, I forgot to tell you that possibly the paperhanger +might be here; he was to come one day this week to paper the upper +hall."</p> + +<p>Dimple looked at Florence and Florence looked at Dimple. "We thought he +was a crazy man," presently said the latter, in a shamefaced way.</p> + +<p>"Crazy! Why, what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"He came to the side door," explained Dimple. "Those were rolls of paper +on his back, Florence, and we got frightened and wouldn't let him in."</p> + +<p>"You silly little geese! I see I must not leave you again."</p> + +<p>"But everything else was all right," Florence informed her, "only I +burned my hand a little. I had almost forgotten it, Dimple."</p> + +<p>"Then you don't want me to go away, altogether," said Mrs. Dallas.</p> + +<p>"No indeed," said they both, in the most emphatic manner.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span></p> + +<p>"You dearest, loveliest," continued Dimple; "it is too delicious to see +you again."</p> + +<p>"And I didn't dream about the crazy man after all," said Florence, the +next morning.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2><h3>Adrift</h3> +</div> + +<p>During this time Mr. Atkinson was not forgotten, and the two little +girls spent many a happy morning in his beautiful garden, for even the +small house which Mr. Dallas had built for Dimple, was not proof against +the attractions Mr. Atkinson's place had to offer. They were careful not +to venture beyond bounds, and kept in the walks and on the porches, but +one hot day they wandered down to where a fence marked the limits of the +place in that direction. Then came a steep bank sloping down to Big Run +which, a little further on, emptied into the river.</p> + +<p>It was a wild, romantic spot and full of charm for the two little girls +whose fancies pictured all sorts of possible things. The hollows, in the +scraggy willows bending over the stream, might be the hiding-places of +nymphs or fairies; yonder soft sward dotted with buttercups and daisies, +might be the favorite spot for a midnight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span> revel; among those rocks +queer little gnomes might live. Florence was especially struck with it +all. She had never been quite so near to such a picturesque spot, and +now nothing would do but that they should climb the fence and explore +further.</p> + +<p>"There isn't a soul anywhere to be seen," said Florence, "and it will be +perfectly safe."</p> + +<p>"Suppose we should meet a fierce dog," Dimple, a little more cautious, +suggested.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, we're not likely to at all. Dogs are not going to such a place +as that, at least, I don't think so. It would be perfectly fine to go +out on one of those willow trees, and hang our feet over the water."</p> + +<p>"Suppose we should slip and fall in."</p> + +<p>"Oh, we'll be careful; besides the branches of the trees hang so far +over the stream that we couldn't fall very far, anyhow, and it is very +shallow there. We'll only get a wetting and it's such a hot day I +shouldn't mind if we did. If we should sit there very quietly we might +see fairies."</p> + +<p>"Do you believe there are fairies, really?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes,—I'm not sure. There may be, you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span> know. Wouldn't it be funny +to see a tiny little being, in a red cloak or a spun-silver robe, come +out from the hollow of a tree and say, 'Maiden, your wish shall be +granted'?"</p> + +<p>"What wish?"</p> + +<p>"Any wish we happen to be making at the time. Come on, Dimple, I am just +crazy to go." And Florence put her foot on the fence and was soon over, +Dimple following.</p> + +<p>It was not so easy as it seemed, to get out on the trees, and they +decided not to attempt it, but thought they would wander along the brink +of the stream, and in doing this they discovered all sorts of wonderful +things in what Florence called the Fairy Dell: moss-grown rocks from +which sprung tiny bell-shaped flowers; a circle of wee pink toadstools, +which indeed seemed fit for the elfin folk; a wild grapevine with a most +delightfully arranged swing on which the two girls "teetered" away in +great joy; shining pebbles, bits of rose-colored quartz, a forest of +plumy ferns, and all such like things, over which the city child +exclaimed and marveled.</p> + +<p>At last they were obliged to cross a little bridge, for the bank became +higher and higher<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span> on that side, and a little further walking showed +them the river.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Florence exclaimed. "Isn't this fine? I wish we could go out +rowing. See those girls over there by that funny flat sort of boat. They +are going to get on it. Come, let us go down and watch them."</p> + +<p>They clambered down and were soon on the brink of the river. Two or +three girls, much older than Dimple and Florence, were pulling a small +flat barge up on the sands. One of the girls recognized Dimple. "Hallo, +Eleanor," she cried. "Where did you come from? Don't you want to get on +with us?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, do let us," whispered Florence.</p> + +<p>"Are you going out on the river?" asked Dimple.</p> + +<p>"No, we are only going to get on this flat boat, and sit here where we +can get the breeze, and maybe we will fish. We brought some tackle along +with us. Come, give me your hand. There, you are landed. Come, little +girl, there is plenty of room." She held out her hand to Florence, who +eagerly accepted the invitation, and was soon by her cousin's side.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span></p> + +<p>"Isn't it nice?" said Dimple.</p> + +<p>"Fine," Florence responded, heartily, as she sat down in the bottom of +the boat.</p> + +<p>"It's rather sunny, though," Dimple remarked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you mustn't mind that. We're going to fish. Don't you want to try +your luck?"</p> + +<p>Dimple looked rather disgustedly at the can of angle-worms and decided +that she would look on.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do, Libbie?" Dimple's acquaintance inquired of +one of the other girls.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to try to get the boat out where it will float. It's such fun +to have it bob up and down," replied the girl addressed. She had a long +pole and was pushing the boat off from the shore. It was fastened to a +stake, so it could only career around a little, and Dimple's friend +Callie Spear assured the little girls that it was perfectly secure, and +so they gave themselves up to their enjoyment.</p> + +<p>Both Florence and Dimple felt very proud of being invited to join this +company of older girls; and, while the latter amused themselves by +fishing, the two little ones set afloat small chips,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span> freighted with the +daisies they had gathered, and wondered how far they could go before +they should upset.</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't it be funny if they sailed all the way to the ocean and were +seen by the people on one of the big steamers. They would wonder how in +the world the daisy people got out so far." Florence said this as she +was watching a chip rapidly drifting down stream. Suddenly she became +aware that the shore was further away than she supposed, and she cried, +"Oh, how wide the water is! See how far it is to the shore."</p> + +<p>The other girls looked up, startled, and to their dismay discovered that +their boat had slipped its moorings and was fast drifting down the +river, nearer and nearer to the current of midstream. They looked at +each other with scared faces, but they did not want to alarm the little +girls, and so Callie said, with a forced laugh: "Oh, that's all right. +We'll get in easily enough. Some one will see us from the shore, or a +boat will come along that can tow us in. It's rather fun to have a +little adventure." However, she eagerly scanned the shore and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span> the +water; but no help seemed to be near, and the boat was drifting on and +on.</p> + +<p>Dimple realized that they were moving further and further away from +home, as she saw the objects on the shore grow smaller and smaller. The +big tears began to gather in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Don't cry, dear," said Callie, soothingly. "We'll get home all right."</p> + +<p>"But suppose we shouldn't. Suppose we should drift on and on down to +where the steamboats come up, and we should keep going till it got dark, +and nobody should see us, and we should get run into and drowned. Oh +dear! I want my mamma, and my papa."</p> + +<p>Florence took alarm at this, and, putting her head in Dimple's lap, +began to cry too.</p> + +<p>The older girls were scarcely less frightened, for they knew there was a +danger in their reaching the rapids, and in being whirled around between +the rocks, when they would be very likely to upset, even in a boat like +the one in which they were. They managed, however, to show less fear, in +their endeavor to calm the younger children.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, we'll get home long before we reach the steamboats," said Emma +Bradford, cheerfully. "Haven't you seen the river in a freshet? and +don't you know how it carries all sorts of things along? haystacks, and +sheds, and even houses with people in them, I've seen, and they are +always rescued."</p> + +<p>Libbie Jackson was looking over the side of the boat. "It is very +shallow here. We could almost walk ashore," she said.</p> + +<p>"We are right over the old ford," said Callie. Suddenly she sprang to +her feet and began to tear off the skirt of her frock. As soon as she +was freed from it she began to wave it frantically. "I see some one on +shore," she exclaimed, excitedly. "All shout as loud as you can, girls;" +and across the water rang the shrill cry of "Help! Help! Help!"</p> + +<p>The man riding along the shore caught sight of the flapping skirt, of +hats waving frantically, and the cry of "help" came faintly to his ears. +He stopped his horse and looked around. "Them gals is adrift," he said +to himself. "Whatever possessed 'em I don't know, but I reckon I'll have +to see if I can't stop 'em."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span></p> + +<p>He rode to the water's edge and looked across. "We're right at the +ford," he remarked, as if his horse could understand what he said. "It +won't hurt you to go out," he continued. "It's a hot day, and you can +get cooled off good." And the girls in the boat were rejoiced to see the +horse headed toward them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how lucky that we're at the ford," said Callie, "otherwise the man +might not venture. See, Eleanor! See, Florence, he can tow us in. Haul +up that bit of rope, girls, while I put on my skirt."</p> + +<p>The man was not long in coming alongside. "What happened ye?" he asked. +"A lot o' gals like you ain't no business gittin' into such a fix. Whar +did ye start from, anyhow? How long ye been driftin'?"</p> + +<p>They told him how the trouble had occurred, and he replied with, "Humph! +I reckon ye'd better not try that agin. You're a matter o' five mile +from home, and the boat don't belong to ye, ye say. How do ye expect to +git back? And how are ye going to manage about the boat? Do ye know +whose it is?"</p> + +<p>"No, but we can find out," said Callie.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</a></span> "What do you think would be the +best way to get it home again? Isn't it a dreadful fix to be in? Can you +suggest any way to help us?"</p> + +<p>"I might take it up for ye to-morrow, maybe, but ye'll have to pay for +it."</p> + +<p>"How much would you charge us?"</p> + +<p>"Lemme see; a couple of dollars."</p> + +<p>The girls looked at each other, and held a whispered consultation which +resulted in Callie's agreeing to the amount, each girl promising to put +in her share.</p> + +<p>The boat was easily towed to the shore; but here it was wet and +slippery, and it required considerable agility to get ashore without +slipping in the soft mud. Every one accomplished it safely but Dimple, +whose foot slipped, and over she went, full length into the mire. A +sorry sight she was indeed, when she was picked up; plastered from head +to foot; face, hands and hair full of the soft ooze. But after she had +been scraped off, Callie concluded that it would be better to let the +sun dry her well, before attempting to get rid of the rest.</p> + +<p>"About this job," said the man, "it's worth somethin', ain't it? It's +considerable out of my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</a></span> way, travelin' to the middle of the river; +besides I've got to look out for that boat, that nobody don't steal it."</p> + +<p>"How much do you expect?" asked Callie, meekly. This was getting more +and more serious.</p> + +<p>"A couple of dollars ain't much when ye consider there's five of ye, and +if I hadn't stopped ye, ye'd be goin' yet. My name's Bill Hart, and any +one'll tell you I'm safe. Ye needn't be afraid but what I'll bring back +the boat."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you will come to my house, you shall have your money," said +Callie. "Do you know where Mr. Harley Spear lives?"</p> + +<p>"Big white house, left side the main street. Yes, I know. You his gal?"</p> + +<p>"I'm his daughter."</p> + +<p>"All right. I reckon ye can git home now, can't ye? It's a straight road +along the river. I must be gettin' on. I'll fetch the boat back +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>The girls saw him disappear, and stood, a most subdued little group. +Dimple felt herself to be in a very unhappy plight, and dreaded meeting +any one. How should she get home through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</a></span> the town without being seen? +She looked very miserable and woe-begone as she thought of all this.</p> + +<p>"Well, girls, we'll have to be up and doing," said Callie. "We've a five +mile walk before us, and it's a pretty hot day, so we'll have to take it +slowly. You'll have plenty of time to get dried off, before we get +there, Eleanor, so don't look so unhappy, you poor little midget. Think +how dreadful it is for me who got you into this scrape. I can never +forgive myself for it."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what let's do," said Libbie. "Let Eleanor take off her +frock, and we'll wash it out in the river, and dry it as we go along. +We're not likely to meet any one, and it's so hot she'll not take cold +going without it. We can hold it out between us as we walk along, so it +will dry before we get home, and it will be clean at least."</p> + +<p>Dimple was so grateful for this suggestion that she could have hugged +Libbie; but she did not know her very well, and only expressed her +thanks very fervently. At the first opportunity the frock was washed +out, and really looked much better. "I wish I could do my stockings,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</a></span> +too," said Dimple, "but I couldn't go barefoot. Mamma wouldn't like me +to, although I'd like to." So this part of her dress had to remain as it +was, and the girls took up their line of march again.</p> + +<p>"I am so thirsty I don't know what to do," said Callie. "If I don't have +a drink I'll drop by the way. I hate to think of drinking that warm +river water; besides, it isn't so easy to get it."</p> + +<p>"There's a spring somewhere further along," said Emma Bradford. "If we +can manage to exist till we reach it, we can rest there. We shall be +half starved, too, by the time we get home."</p> + +<p>"If we only had something to eat we could sit down by the spring till it +grew cooler, and we'd have a sort of a picnic. Oh, girls, we left all +our fishing tackle in the boat! I never once thought of it."</p> + +<p>"Nor I."</p> + +<p>"Nor I."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps Bill What's-his-name will bring it back when he comes with the +boat. We've made a pretty expensive trip of it, as it is, without<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span> +losing our fishing tackle. Think what that four dollars would buy: such +a lot of ice cream and soda water," said Callie.</p> + +<p>"Don't mention such things when we are consumed with thirst, and are so +warm," said Emma.</p> + +<p>"We may have to pay for the use of the boat, too," said Libbie. "I +suppose we are out at least a dollar apiece, and maybe more. It will +take all my pin money for a month. No more soda water for a while, +unless some one treats me."</p> + +<p>"I suppose we ought to be thankful to get home at all," Dimple spoke up.</p> + +<p>"Yes, when you consider it in that light, we're let off cheaply enough," +Callie replied. "Oh, dear, where is that spring?"</p> + +<p>"Just beyond that turn," Emma told her. And they toiled on till they +reached the spot where the cold water bubbled out from a pebbly hollow +under an old tree.</p> + +<p>"We must cool off before we drink," Libbie warned them. "We'll bathe our +faces and hands, and sit here for a while. We are so overheated we ought +not to drink right away."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's very hard not to," said Callie, "but I suppose you are right."</p> + +<p>"I am as hungry as I am thirsty," Libbie remarked. "If we only had one +biscuit apiece, it would be something."</p> + +<p>They had refreshed themselves with the cool spring water, and were idly +sitting under a tree, when Dimple sprang up, crying, "I see something!" +And she scrambled up the bank to a ledge beyond. "Girls! girls! here are +lots of huckleberries," she called.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure?"</p> + +<p>"Certain sure. I wish you'd see. Come up." And they clambered up to the +spot to find that she spoke truly: there was a patch of huckleberry +bushes full of fruit. They set to work with a will and bore their feast +down to the spring, near which they seated themselves on a fallen log.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever taste anything so good?" said Emma. "I never care much for +huckleberries at home, but I shall never despise them again."</p> + +<p>Being refreshed they took up their journey again. Weary and warm they at +length reached home, glad indeed to see the familiar streets, shady and +quiet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am going to see you safely in your mother's hands," Callie assured +Dimple; "for it was my fault that you got into trouble. I had no +business to tempt you."</p> + +<p>"But you only meant it out of kindness," replied Dimple, appreciatively. +"I think you were very good to want us; and it would have been all right +if the boat had not floated off that way."</p> + +<p>"But we did float off, and I want to explain matters to your mother."</p> + +<p>"I'll give you the dollar I have in my bank," said Dimple.</p> + +<p>"No, wait till we find out about the other man; the one who owns the +boat. When he understands that we didn't mean any harm, and that it was +an accident, perhaps he won't charge for the boat, and then we'll only +have to pay eighty cents apiece. I don't want to take any money of yours +if I can help it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you must. I'm sure mamma will say so."</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll see. Just look how nicely your frock has dried. It doesn't +look bad at all. A little limp maybe, but it's better that than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span> muddy. +I hope your mamma isn't very much worried. I don't believe it is so late +after all." And although it seemed to Dimple that she had been days away +from home, she was surprised to find that it was only about four +o'clock, when hot and hungry they arrived at home.</p> + +<p>Callie made her excuses and apologies as contritely as possible, and +Mrs. Dallas was so relieved to find that nothing worse had happened, +that she said very little in the way of reproof to the two runaways.</p> + +<p>"You must never go down to the river again, my children," she said; +"that is, unless papa or I, or some trustworthy person is with you. I +should have forbidden you to go this time, but you have never ventured +there before."</p> + +<p>"I know, mamma," replied Dimple, "but it was so easy getting there from +Mr. Atkinson's place, that we were there before we knew it. Was it +'Didn't think,' mamma?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly. I suppose you hardly realized that you were doing wrong +since there were older girls with you, and it was more of an accident +than actual wrongdoing. I think we shall have to keep you at home +hereafter, for it seems<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</a></span> very easy for little folks to get into trouble +when they are away from their mothers. You have your own garden and your +own little house to play in, so I think we must set the bounds there, +and only allow you to go outside our premises by special invitation."</p> + +<p>"Not even to Mr. Atkinson's?"</p> + +<p>"No, I think not, dear. It is safer for you at home. Mamma has been +greatly worried and distressed, and I am sure you do not want her to +pass through such an anxious time again. It is for mamma's sake, dear, +as well as your own, that she keeps you close to her. Suppose you had +fallen overboard." She drew the child nearer to her, while her eyes grew +moist at the thought.</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear mamma, I'll never go away again without your leave. I don't +want to make you unhappy, mamma. I do love you."</p> + +<p>"I know you do, darling; but little girls sometimes forget that it is +more by the doing than by the saying that their mothers are made aware +of their love. You know papa always tells you that if you really love +your parents, you will do the things that please them, otherwise, no +matter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span> how much you say 'I love you,' it doesn't mean anything."</p> + +<p>Dimple looked very sober, and Florence, too, listened to all this with a +very grave face. It had really been a very trying day for the two little +cousins, and now that they were safe, they realized how uncomfortable it +had been. Therefore, from that time there never was a question of their +going outside the gate without permission, and Mr. Atkinson's place was +no longer visited unless by his express invitation on Saturday +afternoons.</p> + +<p>"I feel as if I had been sort of ungrateful," said Dimple, the next day +after their rescue. "I just love my home, Florence, and somehow I don't +feel a bit bad about not going to Mr. Atkinson's. I believe I know +exactly how the little birdies feel when they get back to the nest, +after they have been trying to fly. I hope I shall never go so far away +again, until I am much older." And the two returned contentedly to their +old playground, only too glad to feel the security of familiar sights +and sounds.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2><h3>Down Town</h3> +</div> + +<p>"Don't you want to go down town for me, girls?" said Mrs. Dallas, one +pleasant morning. "I can't send Bubbles very well."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said Dimple. "What are we to get?"</p> + +<p>"Several things," replied her mother. "Go and get ready and I will tell +you."</p> + +<p>"May we take Celestine and Rubina?" asked Florence.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I would, for you will have packages, and they will be in +the way."</p> + +<p>"Don't let's take them anyhow, Florence," said Dimple. "I was thinking +this morning that their frocks are too thick for summer." So they ran +off to get ready.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Mrs. Dallas, as they came back, "I want you to go to Fink's +and get me four yards of trimming like this sample; if they haven't +exactly like it, the nearest will do. Then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span> I want you to get me four +lemons. You may go to old Mrs. Wills for those, and if she has any fresh +eggs you may get a dozen, and—oh, yes, a bottle of vanilla extract. Now +don't be too long, for I shall want to use some of the things this +morning."</p> + +<p>They promised, and went off without delay. It was a pleasant July +morning, and they started gaily down the street, which was shaded by +trees and bordered on each side by pretty cottages, with gardens in +front.</p> + +<p>"There is Mrs. Brown," said Dimple; "let's cross over, Florence, she +will be sure to stop us if we don't."</p> + +<p>"Who is Mrs. Brown?" asked Florence.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's a woman," returned Dimple. "I suppose she is very nice, but +she is so solemn, and is always telling me that she hopes I will grow up +to be a comfort to my mother and not a care and burden; and she always +says it as if there wasn't the least doubt but that I would be a care +and a burden, and I don't like her. Do you know mamma and Mrs. Hardy +have been friends for over twenty years, and mamma is Rock's +godmother?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">160</a></span></p> + +<p>"How do you know?"</p> + +<p>"Mamma told me. I asked her how she came to know Rock's mother, and she +said she used to know her when she was a little girl like me—and when +they were young ladies they were great friends. Then mamma was married +and came here, and Rock's mother was married and went to California. +When her husband died she came back to Baltimore to live. Here is +Fink's; we have to go in here."</p> + +<p>This was the largest dry goods shop in the town, and the clerks all knew +Dimple.</p> + +<p>"What can we do for you this morning, Miss Dallas?" said one of them, +leaning over the counter.</p> + +<p>"Mamma wants four yards of this trimming," said Dimple, holding out her +sample.</p> + +<p>The man took it, turned it over to examine both sides, and took down a +box.</p> + +<p>"Four yards, did you say?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Dimple.</p> + +<p>He measured it off, saying, "Don't you want some cards? We have some +just in with a lot of goods."</p> + +<p>"I would rather have a box," said Dimple;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</a></span> "for I have a new doll, and I +want it to put her sashes in."</p> + +<p>"You don't object to having both, do you?" said he. "Suppose I put the +cards in the box. How would that do?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that would be very nice," said Dimple; "you are very kind."</p> + +<p>As he went off, she turned to Florence and said in a low tone, "I didn't +like to ask him for two boxes, but I will give you the cards."</p> + +<p>"No matter," said Florence. "I don't care very much for a box."</p> + +<p>However, when the man returned he had two boxes with four pretty cards +in each.</p> + +<p>"Thank you so much," said the girls, highly pleased.</p> + +<p>"He is a real nice man," said Florence, when they were in the street. "I +didn't believe he would think of me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think he is nice," said Dimple; "besides he has known me ever +since I was a baby; he mightn't be so nice to a stranger."</p> + +<p>They next came to a little low brown building with one window. As they +went in at the door,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</a></span> a small bell over it tinkled and a voice said, "In +a minute."</p> + +<p>While they waited they looked about the shop, which was quite a +curiosity to Florence. In the window were jars of candy, red and white, +gingerbread horses, shoestrings, oranges, lemons, and dolls strung along +in a line, the largest in the middle and the smallest at each end; +besides these there were tops, whistles, writing paper, pencils, scrap +pictures, and a variety of other things, all jumbled up together. +Inside, the glass case and the shelves were full, and from the ceiling +hung rolls of cotton in tissue paper, toy wagons, jumping-jacks and +hoops.</p> + +<p>"What a funny place," whispered Florence; but just then a funnier old +woman came in. Her face looked like a withered apple, it was so wrinkled +and rosy; her eyes were bright and her grey hair was combed back under a +high white cap. As she came behind the counter, Florence saw that one of +her hands was very much scarred, and the fingers bent. She wondered what +had happened to it.</p> + +<p>"Well, little Dallas girl, it's you, is it? And how is my pretty with +her dimples and curls?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span> Hm! Hm! Hm! The little Dallas girl," said the +old woman.</p> + +<p>"Mamma wants four lemons, Mrs. Wills," said Dimple.</p> + +<p>"Four lemons; four—four—" said the old woman, going to a box and +taking them out.</p> + +<p>"And she wants to know if you have any fresh eggs?"</p> + +<p>"Fresh eggs. Hm! Hm! Fresh eggs. How many? I'll see."</p> + +<p>"A dozen if you have them."</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll have to go and find them, little girls. Who is the other +little girl?"</p> + +<p>"My cousin," said Dimple.</p> + +<p>"A Dallas?"</p> + +<p>"No; her name is Florence Graham."</p> + +<p>"Graham, Graham. A Dallas and a Graham. Come you two, then, and we'll +see if we can find any eggs."</p> + +<p>They followed Mrs. Wills through the back room into the yard. The room +they passed through was very clean, and held a stove with a little tin +kettle on it, a bed with a patchwork quilt, a shining little table and +several chairs with flowers painted on them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span></p> + +<p>The yard was quite a curiosity, and seemed to be given up entirely to +pigeons and chickens, who made a great fuss, flying up on the old +woman's shoulder and pecking at her; while an old duck waddled solemnly +after, giving a quack once in a while to let them know she was there.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wills took them to the hen-house, and told them where to look for +eggs.</p> + +<p>As Dimple had been there before, she knew where to look, and they soon +made up the dozen.</p> + +<p>The old duck followed them into the house, and was waddling after them +into the shop, when Mrs. Wills with a "Shoo! Shoo!" drove her out.</p> + +<p>"Now, Dallas girl, and Graham girl," said Mrs. Wills, "does the mother +need anything else to-day?"</p> + +<p>"There was something else," said Dimple, "but I can't think what. Can +you, Florence?"</p> + +<p>"There were four things, I know," said Florence. "But I don't remember +the fourth."</p> + +<p>"A—apples, B—brooms, C—crackers, D—dust-pans," went on Mrs. Wills, +rapidly, and then paused.</p> + +<p>"No; not any of those," said Dimple.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span></p> + +<p>"E—extract," said Mrs. Wills.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's it. You have guessed, Mrs. Wills, vanilla, please."</p> + +<p>"E—extract, E—extract," said the old woman, as she hunted in a dark +corner.</p> + +<p>"And C—cocoanut cakes. Red or white?" she asked, opening the case.</p> + +<p>"White," said Dimple. "But Mrs. Wills——"</p> + +<p>"Tut! Tut! Don't you say it; don't you say it, or I'll take back my +eggs," she said, as she handed each of the children a cake.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Mrs. Wills. When I'm grown-up I'll make you a great big cake +and send it to you," said Dimple.</p> + +<p>That pleased the old woman mightily, and she nodded good-bye to them, +saying, "Lemons, eggs and extract," over and over to herself.</p> + +<p>"What a ridiculous old woman!" said Florence. "Is she crazy?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Dimple. "But she is queer. She is good, though, and mamma +always buys everything from her that she can, and she feels so bad if I +don't take the things she offers me that I have to accept them."</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with her hand?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</a></span></p> + +<p>"She burned it trying to save her child from burning."</p> + +<p>"Did she save it?"</p> + +<p>"No; and that is what makes her so queer. She has never been the same +since."</p> + +<p>"My! how warm it is getting," said Florence. "I am glad we have broad +brimmed hats. Let's hurry home. There is your Mrs. Brown again."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!" said Dimple. "Let us turn up this street; it is just as near +to go home this way." So they turned the corner and reached home before +Mrs. Brown knew which way they had gone.</p> + +<p>"Suppose we watch Sylvy make cake," said Dimple, when they had delivered +their packages. "She always lets me watch her. And then we can scrape +the bowl. Don't you like to?"</p> + +<p>"I never do at home," said Florence. "Our cook is so cross and mamma +does not like me to go into the kitchen."</p> + +<p>"My mamma doesn't care; she lets me go whenever I please, and sometimes +I help Bubbles clean knives and do such things, so she can get through, +and play with me sooner."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sylvy, we are coming to watch you make cake; may we?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not a carin'!" said Sylvy. "Git 'round on the other side of the +table."</p> + +<p>"See her break the eggs," said Florence. "Could you do it, Dimple? I'd +be sure to get the yolks all mixed with the whites, and she just turns +one half into the other as easily."</p> + +<p>"I'd be afraid to try," said Dimple; "but when I am a little bigger, I +mean to make a cake myself. I believe I could now if I had some one to +tell me."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't try just yet," said Sylvy, briskly beating the whites of the +eggs to a froth.</p> + +<p>"Could you, Sylvy, when you were a little girl?" asked Florence.</p> + +<p>"Laws, no. I was nigh as big as I am now, and then I made a poor fist at +it," said Sylvy, laughing at the recollection.</p> + +<p>"What was the matter?" asked Dimple.</p> + +<p>"Too much butter and sugar, and not enough flour; it rose up beautiful +at first and then down it went; when I took it out of the oven it was +like taffy. I felt plum bad, I tell you; but I did better next time;" so +saying, she turned her cake<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</a></span> into the pans and giving each of the +children a spoon, bade them take the bowl between them out on the steps, +and "lick" to their hearts' content.</p> + +<p>"You aren't going to make another cake right away, are you, Sylvy?" +asked Dimple, looking up from her bowl. "And—oh, Florence, see all +those turnovers. Are you really going to make another cake, Sylvy?"</p> + +<p>"Yass, miss, some suveral of 'em."</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"Yo' ma done tole me to," replied Sylvy, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to ask her about it. I know she doesn't intend we shall eat +them all. Perhaps there is going to be a church supper, or a strawberry +festival, or something. Come on, Florence, let's go and see about it." +And throwing down their spoons, they went to hunt up Mrs. Dallas.</p> + +<p>They found her in the dining-room, making salad dressing, and upon the +table was a newly-boiled ham, and a quantity of chopped chicken.</p> + +<p>"There, now, mamma is doing something about eating, too," exclaimed +Dimple. "I'd just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</a></span> like to know what it is all for. Won't you tell us, +mamma? Are you going to have a tea or anything like that?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly like that; but we are going on a picnic."</p> + +<p>"Oh! oh! a picnic! Tell us, mamma. Who is going? Are we children to go?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. You children, Mrs. Hardy and Rock, the Spears, the Neals, and the +Jacksons. Mr. Atkinson, too, I think."</p> + +<p>"Which Jacksons?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. David Jackson's family. Mr. Atkinson is not sure of being here, but +he hopes to be able to get off."</p> + +<p>"Oh, good! Tell us some more, mamma."</p> + +<p>"We are going to start early to-morrow afternoon, if it is pleasant. We +will take supper with us. We are going up the river to the island, and +have our meal there."</p> + +<p>"Fine! fine! Oh, Florence, you have never been to the island, and it is +just lovely there. I think you are very good to let us go, mamma, after +our running away in a boat."</p> + +<p>"Who ever heard of any one's running away in a boat?" laughed Mrs. +Dallas. "Now be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</a></span> good children, and keep out of the way, for Sylvy and I +have a lot to do."</p> + +<p>"We'll be good as possible, mamma, but just one more question: are you +going to take Bubbles?"</p> + +<p>"I hadn't thought of it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do, please; she'd be a lot of help, and she'd simply jump out of +her skin if she thought she would be allowed to go."</p> + +<p>"Then we'd better let her stay in her skin. She would be very +uncomfortable without it, even in this warm weather."</p> + +<p>"Please, mamma."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dallas considered for a moment, and then said: "Well, yes, upon the +whole, I think it would be rather a good plan, but she must not neglect +her work to-day. If she gets through all that she has to do by the time +we start she may go, but not otherwise. She will have extra work to-day, +because Sylvy is more than usually busy."</p> + +<p>"May we help her a little bit? We could clean the knives, and shell the +peas."</p> + +<p>"I think that would be very kind if you did."</p> + +<p>"And may we tell her?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span></p> + +<p>"If you like."</p> + +<p>The two little girls ran off to where Bubbles was washing out dish +towels by the kitchen door. "Bubbles! Bubbles! You are going on a +picnic," cried Dimple.</p> + +<p>Bubbles dropped the dish towel she was dousing up and down in the water. +"Me, Miss Dimple? Me? Who say so?"</p> + +<p>"Mamma. There is to be a picnic to-morrow, and you are to go along with +us. Aren't you glad?"</p> + +<p>"Hm! Hm! I reckon I is. All dem cakes an' pies an' good eatin's, an' I +gwine have some fo' dey gits mashed up an' soft, an' I gwine wait on de +ladies and gent'mans. Ain't dat fine?" She gave a twist to her towel and +shook it out with a snap. Then she was overtaken by a sudden fear. "Yuh +ain't a-foolin' me, is yuh?"</p> + +<p>"No, of course not. I wouldn't be so mean as to fool you about such a +thing. But mamma says you mustn't dawdle to-day. So hurry up and get +those towels done. Sylvy is going to be awfully busy, so you'll have to +help her, but we're going to clean the knives for you, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span> shell the +peas. Bring them down to the little house; we're going down there. We +might set the table, too, Florence."</p> + +<p>"Thanky, ma'am, Miss Dimple. Thanky, Miss Flo'ence." Bubbles' face was +beaming, and her slim, black legs went scudding into the house with more +than their usual agility.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't wonder if Rock were to come over, Florence," said Dimple; +"then he can help us to shell the peas, so we can have some time to +play. Rock will want to talk over the picnic, and he will want to see +how the garden is coming on. I think the pumpkin vine is coming up. I +can't tell whether it is that or a weed, but Rock will know."</p> + +<p>"Rock always thinks of such nice plays; I hope he will come," returned +Florence; and, indeed, they had hardly established themselves on the +porch of the little house before the boy's cheery whistle was heard, and +the three children, after faithfully fulfilling the promise to Bubbles +to relieve her of some of her tasks, determined to invent a new play.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what we'll do," said Rock. "We'll dig a cave over here, +and we'll pretend a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</a></span> company of bandits live in it, and they will +capture one of your dolls. Then we will go to the rescue."</p> + +<p>"Who'll be the bandits?"</p> + +<p>"Why, let me see. We'll take sticks of wood; little branches with two +prongs, like this; they make the legs, you see; and then we'll stick on +something round for the heads, turnips or onions or something like +that."</p> + +<p>"There aren't any turnips this time of year," returned Dimple, "and +onions smell so strong. We can get potatoes, though, and they have eyes, +so I should think they would make very good heads."</p> + +<p>Rock laughed. "So they will."</p> + +<p>"I'll go and see if mamma will let me have—how many?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, half a dozen or so."</p> + +<p>Dimple started for the house; then suddenly remembered that she had +promised not to bother her mother, and she stood still for a moment. But +the idea of the bandits was too alluring, and so she proceeded to the +house, putting her head timidly in at the dining-room door, where her +mother was still busy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mamma," she said, "are potatoes very expensive?"</p> + +<p>"No, not very. What a funny question. Did you come all the way in here +to ask that?"</p> + +<p>"No, mamma, not exactly; but do they cost too much for you to give us +half a dozen for our bandits?"</p> + +<p>"For your bandits! What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Why, we are going to have a lovely play—Rock made it up—and we can't +have any bandits unless we have heads for them, and I said potatoes +would do, because they have eyes. May we have half a dozen?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dallas smiled. "Yes, but you must not ask Sylvy or Bubbles to get +them for you."</p> + +<p>"I'll get them if you will tell me where they are."</p> + +<p>"They are down in the cellar. Please, Dimple, don't bother me again. Try +to play without coming up after things all the time."</p> + +<p>"Yes, mamma," Dimple replied, very meekly. "I wouldn't have come this +time if it had been for anything but the bandits."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dallas let her go, and then called her back, for she had seen a +little wistful look in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span> child's face when her mother spoke shortly. +"Come, kiss me, dear," she said. "I want you to know that you are quite +welcome to the potatoes. They will make very inexpensive and harmless +playthings, and I hope your bandits will turn out just as you want them +to."</p> + +<p>Dimple gave her a grateful hug.</p> + +<p>"You may stop in the kitchen and get a turnover apiece for you three +children. Tell Sylvy I said you might."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma, how dear you are," and the happy little face disappeared.</p> + +<p>The six potato-headed bandits proved most venturesome creatures, and +kept their captive safe from her would-be rescuers, till she was +redeemed by the payment of a hundred pieces of gold, represented by +buttercup petals, and the morning passed so quickly that the children +could scarcely believe it, when Bubbles came—as they had told her to +do—to tell them it was time to set the dinner-table.</p> + +<p>"Shall I fill up the cave?" Rock asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, we might want to use it again," Dimple decided. "That was such a +lovely, exciting play, Rock."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then we'd better cover up the cave. Some one might step in it, and get +hurt."</p> + +<p>After hunting around, an old battered tin pan was found, which was laid +over the entrance, but, alas! it was not proof against Bubbles' +unfairy-like tread, for she stepped on it that very evening, and down +she went, but, as luck had it, she did nothing worse than scratch her +toes upon the very rough body of the bandit chief; although, be it +confessed, he fared worse by the encounter than she did, for he had both +legs broken beyond hope of saving. The next morning he was carefully +carried away to a hospital and devotedly nursed by one of Dimple's +dolls; but he never recovered, though he lingered for several days. His +funeral was quite a magnificent affair, and he was buried with proper +ceremonies under the very tree upon which he originally grew.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2><h3>The Picnic</h3> +</div> + +<p>The children awoke on the morning of the day set for the picnic, to +view, with anxious eyes, a grey sky.</p> + +<p>"Oh, if it should rain, wouldn't it be just too bad for anything," said +Florence. "I should be so dreadfully disappointed, shouldn't you, +Dimple?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am afraid so," returned Dimple, despondently, watching the smoke +rising from a distant chimney. Then more cheerfully, "See Florence, I +don't believe it will rain, for that smoke is going straight up. You +know that is a sign it is going to clear. Maybe it is only misty and not +cloudy."</p> + +<p>This it proved to be, for, as the day advanced, the sun came out and it +was as beautiful an afternoon as one could wish to see. Therefore very +gaily they started forth to meet the rest of the party down at the +river's brink.</p> + +<p>"Oh, there's Mr. Atkinson," cried Dimple,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span> catching sight of this +gentleman's pleasant face, "I am so glad he could come. I wonder if he +sees us. I hope we can go in his boat, don't you, Florence?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, I do. He sees us. He is waving his hat."</p> + +<p>The two little girls ran forward and to their satisfaction were helped +into Mr. Atkinson's boat with Mr. and Mrs. Dallas and Bubbles as +fellow-passengers, Bubbles grinning from ear to ear and looking very +spick and span in a clean pink calico frock and a white apron. A string +of blue beads adorned her neck; she had added it as a finishing touch to +her toilet.</p> + +<p>The boats pushed off and, after an hour's rowing, the party of +picnickers landed at a pretty little island in the river. It was covered +with trees and underbrush, but not so densely as to prevent their +finding a space big enough for a camping ground where they could build a +fire and spread their supper.</p> + +<p>Most of the party preferred to go out on the river to fish, for some +fine black bass could be caught here. Dimple, however, preferred to stay +behind with Mrs. Dallas and one or two of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">179</a></span> other ladies, even though +Mr. Atkinson said he would bait her hook for her, and would lend her his +finest line and reel.</p> + +<p>"I feel so sorry for the poor little earth worms, first, and for the +fish afterward, that I don't believe I should enjoy it," Dimple said, +seriously.</p> + +<p>"But you can eat a piece of bass after it is cooked, can't you?" Mr. +Atkinson returned, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Yes, if I don't see him caught."</p> + +<p>"Your little girl reminds me of those very tender-hearted children, who, +when they saw the picture of the Christian martyrs, were overcome with +pity, not for the martyrs, no indeed, but because there was one poor +dear lion that hadn't any martyr to eat," Mr. Atkinson said to Mr. +Dallas.</p> + +<p>"That was a little extreme, I admit," returned Mr. Dallas, laughing, +"but we do try to cultivate a humane spirit in our little daughter, and +you may be sure she will never wear a stuffed bird in her hat when she +grows older."</p> + +<p>Mr. Atkinson nodded in approval. "I'm glad of that," he returned, "and I +must say I think<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</a></span> useless sport is wicked, but when one wants fish for +food, I think he may be excused the catching. And so, Dimple, it +resolves itself into your going without the fish or the fishing, does +it?"</p> + +<p>Dimple nodded. She didn't exactly understand, but she supposed he meant +that if she wanted the fish for supper, she'd better remain where she +could not see them caught.</p> + +<p>Florence, however, had less compunction, and consented to go out in the +boat, though she wasn't sure whether or not she should want to catch any +fish. But Rock, like most boys, was very eager for the sport, and hoped +he would be able to catch the first fish, and also wanted it to be the +biggest caught.</p> + +<p>"May Bubbles and I go anywhere on the island that we want?" Dimple asked +her mother, after they had watched the boats start off.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dallas, with Mrs. Hardy's help, was putting up a hammock between +two of the big trees. "I think it will be perfectly safe," she replied, +after a moment's thought. "The island isn't very big, and you will not +go too near the water's edge, will you? I can see you from here—I +suppose in whatever direction you go."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">181</a></span></p> + +<p>"I will keep away from the water, mamma, although I should dearly like +to paddle about."</p> + +<p>"You can take off your shoes and stockings and paddle right here on this +bit of shore when you come back from your exploring trip. I can watch +you then, and shall feel perfectly easy about you."</p> + +<p>"Where are the lunch baskets, mamma?"</p> + +<p>"Over there behind that tree."</p> + +<p>"What is that covered up with that grey blanket?"</p> + +<p>"Something Mr. Atkinson brought."</p> + +<p>"I didn't see it in our boat. May I peep at it?"</p> + +<p>"No, dear, I think I wouldn't. It isn't just the thing to indulge one's +curiosity about such matters. Mr. Atkinson had it sent up here, and as +he meant it as a sort of a little secret for you children, it wouldn't +be polite to try to find it out."</p> + +<p>So Dimple with her little maid, walked away, not, however, without +several backward looks at the grey blanket.</p> + +<p>There was not very much to see on the island, after all, for it was a +small place, and the most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">182</a></span> interesting discovery they made was a pile of +big rocks at the upper end of the narrow strip of land. Here they +established themselves to watch the boats and the fishers.</p> + +<p>"I think Rock has caught a fish," exclaimed Dimple, when she had been +watching for some time. "See, Bubbles, he is hauling in his line as fast +as he can. There goes the reel again. Oh, I hope if he must catch them, +that he will catch big ones. See that lovely red flower growing down +there between the rocks. I wish you would get it for me, Bubbles, and +then we will go back to where mamma is. I am as hungry as I don't know +what, and I want to ask mamma for a turnover or a biscuit or something. +Get me the flower, Bubbles, and I'll watch to see if Rock really did +catch a fish."</p> + +<p>Bubbles promptly obeyed, but she had just stooped to pick the flower +when she heard a piercing shriek from Dimple. Mrs. Dallas heard it, too, +and came running in the greatest alarm, to find, when she reached the +spot, Dimple almost paralyzed with fright, continuing her screams, while +Bubbles, dancing about, getting more and more excited every minute, was +valiantly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">183</a></span> hurling pieces of rock at a large black snake.</p> + +<p>"Hyar come anudder," she cried, as a stone went flying through the air. +"Take dat. Hit yuh, didn't it? Skeer Miss Dimple outen her senses, will +yuh? Yuh gre't, ugly black crittur!" and rock after rock came with such +force and precision that the unfortunate snake, in a few minutes, was +"daid as a do' nail," as Bubbles expressed it.</p> + +<p>Dimple clung to her mother, trembling with fright, even after the snake +was killed.</p> + +<p>"Is it dead, really dead? Oh, Bubbles!" she quavered. "What would I have +done if you hadn't been so brave?"</p> + +<p>Bubbles laughed. "Dat wan't no snake to pison yuh," she said. "It +couldn't hurt yuh. All it could do was to race yuh."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk about it," said Dimple, shuddering. "Do let us leave it, and +go back."</p> + +<p>But Bubbles was too proud of her performance to allow it to be set +aside; so she picked up the snake, and started to carry it back on a +forked stick.</p> + +<p>On the way, however, she too fell into a fright<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">184</a></span> at sight of an innocent +little land terrapin traveling along with his house on his back. "Don't +tech it, don't, Miss Dimple," she cried in terror. "Dey has de evilest +eyes. I wouldn't tech one fer nothin'."</p> + +<p>"But you aren't afraid of snakes," replied Dimple, "and these little +terrapins are much more harmless." Nevertheless Bubbles had in some way +acquired a superstition about "Bre'r Tarrapin," from Sylvy, who, like +most colored people, stood in terror of the innocent creatures.</p> + +<p>But when the boats returned, the big snake, hanging over the limb of a +tree, was triumphantly displayed and attested to Bubbles' courage; so +that she was made very proud by the praise she received for having +killed it, Dimple generously refraining from saying anything about the +terrapin.</p> + +<p>Although Rock did not catch the first fish, he caught the biggest one, +and was quite proud of it.</p> + +<p>There was a fire built, and the fish, nicely cleaned, were cooked over +the coals. Florence thought all this delightful. She had never enjoyed +such an experience, and watched the proceedings<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">185</a></span> with the greatest +pleasure. Every one was ready to enjoy the supper when it was prepared, +saying that fish never tasted so good, and that the coffee, made in a +very ordinary tin coffee-pot, could not be improved.</p> + +<p>Dimple whispered to Florence that there was a secret under the grey +blanket; and that she half suspected what it was, but she didn't intend +to look. Even a delighted giggle from Bubbles did not cause her to turn +her head, but when that small hand-maiden, who was bustling about +waiting on every one, offered her a saucer of ice cream, Dimple +exclaimed, "I guessed it! I guessed it to myself."</p> + +<p>"Guessed what?" said Mr. Atkinson, at her side.</p> + +<p>"Guessed that it was an ice cream freezer under the blanket," returned +Dimple.</p> + +<p>"Oho! so you've been trying to find out, have you?"</p> + +<p>"No. I didn't try. I only hoped," replied Dimple, gravely. At which Mr. +Atkinson laughed heartily; just why, Dimple was puzzled to discover.</p> + +<p>When the supper was over and the baskets<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">186</a></span> repacked, they played all +manner of games till the great round moon rose over the river, and then +they rowed home, singing as they floated along in the silvery moonlight.</p> + +<p>Florence and Dimple sat side by side, in a sort of waking dream; and +Bubbles dreamed too, as was very evident when the boat landed, for she +was sound asleep, and had to be called and shaken before she knew where +she was. Then she blundered along behind the others, still so sleepy +that she forgot to take off her precious blue beads when she went to +bed, and in the night the string broke; consequently when she awoke in +the morning she found the beads straggling over the floor and strewing +the sheets.</p> + +<p>"Didn't we have a good time?" said Florence, looking out on the +moonlight, as she stood at the window in Dimple's room.</p> + +<p>"Yes," was Dimple's reply, "all but the snake. I don't like snakes."</p> + +<p>But the next evening it was evident that Bubbles still bore the subject +of snakes in her mind. Mr. and Mrs. Dallas had gone out. Dimple, +Florence and Bubbles were sitting on the floor by one of the front +windows.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">187</a></span></p> + +<p>The air was full of the scent of the honeysuckle, and the katydids were +contradicting each other in the trees.</p> + +<p>"What quarrelsome things they are," said Florence. "Do you suppose they +will ever find out whether katy did or not? I'd like to know what she +did, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Or what she didn't," said Dimple. "Bubbles, are you asleep?" giving her +a shake.</p> + +<p>"Thinkin'," said Bubbles, sitting up straight and rubbing her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Then what are you rubbing your eyes for?"</p> + +<p>"'Cause it's dark. I can't see good," returned Bubbles.</p> + +<p>"I declare," Dimple said, "I never know what to do with myself when +mamma goes out; it seems to me she is very intimate with Mrs. Hardy. +Florence, suppose you tell a story."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't," replied Florence. "I never could. I never know what to +tell about. You tell."</p> + +<p>"I don't know any except Cinderella and the Seven Swans, and those. +Bubbles will have to do it. Go on Bubbles, you've got to tell us a +story."</p> + +<p>"Laws! Miss Dimple," giggled Bubbles.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">188</a></span></p> + +<p>"You needn't 'laws,' you know you can, for you've often told them to me; +now begin, right away; it will keep you awake if it doesn't do anything +else."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Bubbles, smoothing down her apron, "oncet they was a +bummelybee, and a snake, and a bird."</p> + +<p>"What kind of a bird?" interrupted Florence.</p> + +<p>"Erra—erra—bluebird," said Bubbles.</p> + +<p>"All right, go on."</p> + +<p>"The snake wanted fur to git the bluebird, and the bummelybee was +a-flyin, and a-buzzin' so, it made such a 'straction the snake couldn't +git fixed fur to chawm the bird nohow.</p> + +<p>"'Jess yuh quit yo' foolin',' said the snake.</p> + +<p>"'I no foolin',' said the bummelybee, 'what's got yuh anyhow?'</p> + +<p>"'I ain't had no brekfuss,' said the snake.</p> + +<p>"'Well go 'long 'n git it; I'm not a hinderin'.'</p> + +<p>"'Yes, yuh is,' said the snake, 'I can't do nothin' fur yo' buzzin'.'</p> + +<p>"Then the bummelybee flown off, but he didn't go very fur, he wanted to +see what the snake was up to. He kinder suspicioned it wasn't up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">189</a></span> to no +good, so he jess watched the snake, and bimeby he seen the bluebird come +up as peart as anythin', and he set down on the limb of a tree."</p> + +<p>Here Bubbles stopped to take breath, and then went on,</p> + +<p>"Well, he seen the snake a-crawlin' along the grass, a-crawlin', +a-crawlin', as crafty till it got right in front of the bluebird, and +the bluebird he jess set and looked, and didn't move, or say nothin'.</p> + +<p>"'Hm! hm!' says Mr. Bummelybee, 'hit's time I was a movin',' so he made +fur the snake and giv' him one sting on the haid, and he jess rolled up +he eyes, and quirled up ontil the grass; and the bluebird said, 'I'm +much debliged of you, Mr. Bummelybee. I'm glad to perform yo' +acquaintance. I was jess about as nigh chawmed as a bird could be.'</p> + +<p>"'Don't say no more about it,' said Mr. Bummelybee, and off he flown."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know bumblebees could sting," said Florence.</p> + +<p>"Law now don't they?" said Bubbles, "mebbe they doesn't, hit might a +been a wass,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">190</a></span> wasses sting I know. Come to think of it, hit was a wass."</p> + +<p>"Is that all of it?" asked Dimple. "I don't think it is a very long +story."</p> + +<p>"Laws, Miss Dimple, you didn't reckon that was all," said Bubbles, +loftily. "I laid out to tell more, soon ez my tongue got rested."</p> + +<p>"Rest it then, and go on," said Dimple, settling back against a chair, +with her hands behind her head.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Bubbles, going on with her story, "the wass he flown off, +and the bluebird he flown off, and after a while the bluebird he met a +squirl. 'Howdy?' says he. 'Howdy,' says the squirl. 'How's all to yo' +house?'</p> + +<p>"'Tollable, thank you,' says the bluebird. 'Ef yuh see a wass come +along—' Laws, Miss Dimple, I can't get along without'n hit's being a +bummely," said she, stopping short.</p> + +<p>"Well, have it a bummely then," said Dimple. "You don't care, do you, +Florence?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Florence, "have it a bummely if you want to, Bubbles."</p> + +<p>"'Well,' says the bluebird, 'ef you see a bummelybee, don't you let +nobody take his honey<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">191</a></span> from him, fur he's a pertickeler fren' of mine.' +He was sorter shamed to let on to the squirl how nigh chawmed he was.</p> + +<p>"'I promise, cross my heart,' says the squirl, and Mr. Bluebird flown +off.</p> + +<p>"Aftern awhile, up flown Mr. Bummely, and smack behind him comes a +little boy layin' out to git his honey.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bummely he flown along and went to hide hissef in a big flower. +That's jess what the boy wanted. 'Now I've got yuh,' says he, but he was +too forward, fur the squirl clim' down the tree and popped onto the +boy's haid jess ez he was gwine to take off his hat to ketch Mr. +Bummely, and Mr. Bummely he flown off, and Mr. Squirl he laugh, and Mr. +Boy he got mad, and made tracks fur home, and that's all."</p> + +<p>The girls laughed, and hearing Sylvy call her, Bubbles went out.</p> + +<p>"Isn't she funny?" said Florence. "I never could have made up a story +like that, could you, Dimple?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Dimple, "she tells me the funniest ones sometimes, so mixed +up, and I laugh till I can scarcely speak, and she sings the most +absurd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">192</a></span> songs; she gets the words all twisted, she has no idea what they +mean. Oh! Florence, I do believe there is a bat in the hall. I hope to +goodness it won't come in here."</p> + +<p>Florence screamed and hid her head under the piano, while Dimple took +refuge in the same place, and called loudly for Bubbles, who came +running in with Sylvy after her.</p> + +<p>"What's de matter? Where are yuh?" they cried.</p> + +<p>"Oh, a bat! a bat!" shrieked Florence, as the creature came swooping in +from the hall, beating its wings against the wall.</p> + +<p>Sylvy, armed with a broom, and Bubbles, with a duster, soon put an end +to the poor bat, and the girls came out from their hiding-place.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it is silly to be afraid of them, but they nearly frighten me +to death," said Dimple.</p> + +<p>"So they do me," Florence said, "and spiders too. Ugh! it makes cold +chills run down my back to think of one; let's go to bed, Dimple. We can +undress anyhow, and sit in our nightgowns and talk, if we want to."</p> + +<p>This Dimple agreed to, and they went upstairs to their rooms to find on +the bureau two little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">193</a></span> white paper packages addressed to "Miss Florence +Graham," and "Miss Eleanor Dallas."</p> + +<p>"Papa did it," said Dimple, "it is just like him; let's see what is +inside. No, we'll guess. I say chocolates."</p> + +<p>"I say burnt almonds: no, marshmallows," said Florence, giving her +package a little squeeze. "Marshmallows and chocolates," exclaimed +Florence, as she untied the little pink string and peeped in.</p> + +<p>"So are mine," said Dimple. "I don't think we had better eat them all +to-night, do you? Suppose we count them and take out some for to-morrow. +One, two, three, twelve chocolates, and sixteen marshmallows. How many +have you?"</p> + +<p>"Thirteen chocolates and fifteen marshmallows," announced Florence.</p> + +<p>"Well, let's eat six of them, and put the rest away."</p> + +<p>So they were carefully counted out, and the packages retied.</p> + +<p>"Now we will undress and sit here in our nightgowns, till we've eaten +our candy," said Florence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">194</a></span></p> + +<p>"Dear me," said Dimple, as the last one disappeared, "I wish we had said +seven of them."</p> + +<p>"Suppose we do say seven."</p> + +<p>"Well, suppose we do," and the packages were again untied and again put +up. They had hardly finished when Mrs. Dallas came in with a telegram in +her hand.</p> + +<p>"Not in bed yet?" said she.</p> + +<p>"No, mamma, we have been eating candy. Did you see papa put it on the +bureau?" said Dimple.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I have a piece of news for you. Your Uncle Heath will be here +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Uncle Heath! I am so glad. Is the telegram from him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it just came, and he will be here to breakfast."</p> + +<p>"How long will he stop?"</p> + +<p>"Not very long. Now jump into bed and be ready to get up before he +reaches here."</p> + +<p>"Is your Uncle Heath your papa's brother?" asked Florence, when they +were in bed.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Oh! Florence, he is so nice."</p> + +<p>"Is he young or old?"</p> + +<p>"Not so very old, about forty, I think; he is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">195</a></span> two years older than +papa, but he looks older; he has grey hair, a little bit grey, not very, +and he looks like papa, only he has blue eyes.</p> + +<p>"I wonder why he is coming," mused Dimple. "Now I think of it. I heard +papa say yesterday, 'I am so glad for dear old Heath.' I wonder why. +Don't grown folks know lots of things, Florence? And we have to just +guess and wonder till they choose to tell us.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, I am going to sleep, and I shall ask him myself to-morrow. +Just think, Florence, he is in the cars now, and they are steaming +along, coming nearer and nearer, while we lie still here and sleep. +Good-night," and she turned over and was soon fast asleep.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">196</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2><h3>An Uncle and a Wedding</h3> +</div> + +<p>Dimple was up betimes the next morning. Creeping quietly out of bed, she +left Florence sound asleep.</p> + +<p>"Mamma," she whispered, softly, as she opened her mamma's door, "what +time is it? Has Uncle Heath come?"</p> + +<p>"It is half-past six," said her mamma, "and Uncle Heath will be here in +half an hour."</p> + +<p>"May I put on my blue frock?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Dimple slipped back, and was not long in dressing. Florence sleepily +opened her eyes as Dimple was ready to leave the room.</p> + +<p>"Oh Dimple, are you dressed?" she said, sitting up in bed. "Has the bell +rung?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Dimple, "but Uncle Heath is coming, you know, and I want to +meet him. Come down when you are ready."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">197</a></span></p> + +<p>Florence being wide awake by this time, concluded to get up, and Dimple +ran downstairs, patting the baluster with one hand as she went.</p> + +<p>When she reached the lowest step she was caught up by a pair of arms, +and found her face close to her Uncle Heath's whiskers.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Uncle Heath," she cried, "do let me hug you. I am so glad to see +you. I'm gladder than anybody."</p> + +<p>"I hope not," said her father from the doorway.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am," said Dimple, as her uncle carried her into the parlor, and +held her on his knee. "Uncle Heath, are you very happy?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I am," said he, laughing, as did Dimple's papa and mamma.</p> + +<p>"Quite a home thrust," said her papa.</p> + +<p>"The reason I asked," she went on, playing with her uncle's watch chain, +"is, that I heard papa say the other day, 'I am so glad for dear old +Heath.'"</p> + +<p>"He has reason to be," responded her uncle. "Dimple, how should you like +a new aunt and cousin?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, uncle! Is it Rock?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">198</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, not Rock altogether," laughed he. "Rock's mother, as well."</p> + +<p>"Please tell me, Uncle Heath."</p> + +<p>"So I will, little girl. Rock's mother is going to be your grey-headed +uncle's wife. That makes Rock your cousin, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Dimple, cuddling up to him, "but you are not grey-headed, +Uncle Heath, only grey-templed," she said, softly patting each side of +his face.</p> + +<p>"She seems perfectly satisfied," said he, looking at his brother.</p> + +<p>"Perfectly," he answered. "You could not have pleased her better."</p> + +<p>"But, Uncle Heath," said Dimple, "I didn't know you knew Mrs. Hardy."</p> + +<p>"I knew her long ago, when she wasn't Mrs. Hardy, but Dora West. Long +ago," he repeated, gently stroking her hair.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you marry her then?"</p> + +<p>"I wanted to," said he, simply, "but I couldn't. Do you want to be +bridesmaid, Dimple?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, uncle! Could I?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed; and Rock groomsman. We are such a young, frivolous couple, +we couldn't think<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">199</a></span> of having a grown-up young lady for bridesmaid."</p> + +<p>Dimple laughed, and sat in supreme content on her uncle's knee till the +breakfast bell rang.</p> + +<p>"Florence, I know all about it," she cried, as Florence came in, "and I +am going to be bridesmaid, and I know why Uncle Heath is happy, and why +Rock can be my cousin. Isn't it lovely?"</p> + +<p>Florence looked puzzled, but after a clearer explanation agreed with +Dimple that it was "perfectly lovely."</p> + +<p>Rock came over after breakfast, with a message for Mrs. Dallas, and +Dimple ran out to meet him, crying, "Oh, Rock! your papa is here, and +you are going to be my cousin, really and truly. Did you know it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I knew," said he, "and I'm real glad. Where is Mr. Dallas?"</p> + +<p>"My Uncle Heath, or papa?"</p> + +<p>"Your Uncle Heath."</p> + +<p>"He has gone to see your mamma, I think. And oh, Rock! we are going to +be bridesmaids, you and I. No, I mean I am going to be bridesmaid, and +you groomsman."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and something else I know, too," said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">200</a></span> Rock. "While mamma goes on +her wedding trip I am to come here to stay."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Rock," exclaimed Dimple, clapping her hands, "that will be lovely, +too. How long?"</p> + +<p>"Three days, I think."</p> + +<p>"Won't we have good times?" laughed Dimple, dancing up and down. "Do +come sit down and talk about it. Are you glad you are going to have my +Uncle Heath for your papa?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," said Rock.</p> + +<p>"And are you going to live here?"</p> + +<p>"No, in Baltimore."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, that is all that spoils it."</p> + +<p>"Never mind," said Rock. "I shouldn't wonder if we were to come here +summers, and I'll tell you, Dimple, maybe your mother will let you come +visit us next winter, and I will take you sleighing."</p> + +<p>That comforted Dimple somewhat.</p> + +<p>"Where is the wedding to be? I never thought to ask," said she.</p> + +<p>"At church, at half-past nine Thursday morning. Then we come back to +your house to breakfast, and mamma and Mr. Dallas go away on the twelve +o'clock train."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">201</a></span></p> + +<p>"When you say Mr. Dallas I think you mean my papa," said Dimple. "I wish +you would call Uncle Heath papa."</p> + +<p>"But he isn't my papa yet."</p> + +<p>"Well, three days doesn't make much difference, and you need only say it +to me."</p> + +<p>"Well! papa and mamma," said Rock, laughing, "will be back Sunday +evening, and Monday we all go away."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk about that part of it. I don't want to think of it."</p> + +<p>Here Dimple's mamma called her, and she went upstairs. "Wait till I come +back, Rock," she said, as she went out, "I want to talk some more."</p> + +<p>"What do you want with me, mamma?" she asked as she entered her mamma's +room.</p> + +<p>"I want to try on your bridesmaid frock."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma! Is that it?" she exclaimed, as her mamma lifted a soft white +mull from the bed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and you are to wear a white hat and carry a basket of flowers. +Isn't it odd that my little daughter should be bridesmaid for some one +who was once her mamma's bridesmaid, and who used to play with her when +she was a little girl?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</a></span></p> + +<p>Dimple laughed at the idea, as she put her arms through the arm-holes, +and said, "It is all so funny, mamma, that I can't straighten it out at +all. It is like a fairy tale, and, O! mamma, I look like a fairy in this +frock. Isn't it lovely? I wish I might go down and show it to Rock and +Florence."</p> + +<p>"Very well, you may, only be very careful not to catch it on anything."</p> + +<p>"I will be, mamma," and she danced off to display her finery.</p> + +<p>"See, Rock! See, Florence! Don't I look almost like a fairy?" she +exclaimed, as she went into the library, where they both were sitting, +each in a big chair.</p> + +<p>"Oh! you do look sweet!" they said, and Dimple smiled and blushed at the +praise, quite delighted with herself; but presently she looked at +Florence a little gravely, and said:</p> + +<p>"Florence, I feel so selfish. Do you care very much that I am to be a +bridesmaid, and you not?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed, for I am to be bridesmaid when my sister is married, +anyhow, and I would so much rather see it all than to be right in it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">203</a></span></p> + +<p>So Dimple went up to take off her frock quite reassured.</p> + +<p>"Mamma, what are you going to wear? White, too?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"No, grey, with pink roses; and Mrs. Hardy will wear pale lavender and +white roses."</p> + +<p>"I thought brides always wore white."</p> + +<p>"Not always," answered her mamma.</p> + +<p>Long before half-past nine on the eventful morning Dimple stood ready, +slippers, hat and all; her basket of flowers tied with white ribbons on +the piano; and she felt very grand, indeed, when the carriage, with Rock +in it, drove around for her. She had been up by daybreak, around to the +church with flowers, upstairs to see that her bridesmaid toilet was all +right, down into the kitchen to ask Sylvy for a peep at the wedding +cake, which, black with fruit inside and white with frosting out, stood +on the sideboard.</p> + +<p>Then there was the table to see, and little helpful things to do for her +mamma, while she arranged it; flowers to gather, a great bowl of fresh +roses in the centre.</p> + +<p>Then it was such a delight, after she and Florence were dressed, to +watch her mamma get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">204</a></span> ready; to see her dainty laces, and hold her +flowers ready for her to pin on.</p> + +<p>At last the great moment really arrived, and she found herself stepping +up the aisle with Rock, feeling a little embarrassment, though it was a +very quiet wedding, only a few near friends being present; but she bore +herself very bravely, holding her flower basket very tightly, and +keeping time with her slippered feet to the wedding march.</p> + +<p>She did not dare even to look at Rock, but kept her eyes steadfastly +cast down.</p> + +<p>She and Rock were the first to get back to the house, and when the new +Mrs. Dallas reached there, Dimple rushed up to her and gave her a +frantic hug, calling her "dear Aunt Dora;" then as frantic a hug was +bestowed upon her uncle.</p> + +<p>She danced through the rooms like a will-o'-the-wisp, hardly willing to +sit at the table long enough to eat anything at all.</p> + +<p>When the bridal pair drove away to the depot, a shower of rice and old +shoes were flung after them by all the children, Bubbles included.</p> + +<p>After the house was quiet again, Dimple, Florence and Rock sat talking +it all over in the parlor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</a></span></p> + +<p>"Were you frightened when you walked up the aisle?" asked Florence.</p> + +<p>"A little; but I thought about looking at my slippers, and didn't see +the people. Did I look all right?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; as lovely as possible, and I never should have thought you were +frightened. What did you do with the flowers? And, oh Dimple, who had +the lovely little figure on top of the cake?"</p> + +<p>"I know," said Rock. "I heard mamma tell Dimple's mother that the +bridesmaid ought to have that; and I think so, too."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Dimple. "I think you ought to have it, Rock."</p> + +<p>"No, indeed. That would be a fine way to do, I must say. It is to be +yours. Mamma said so, and that settles it."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Dimple. "But I have so much, it seems to me. Florence, +isn't it funny for Rock to have a new papa? Everything turns out so +oddly. Don't you know how provoked we were that day when Bubbles told us +that mamma was bringing a boy out to see us?"</p> + +<p>"And now that boy is your cousin," said Rock.</p> + +<p>"Yes; and I am glad, too," replied Dimple,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">206</a></span> giving his hand a little +affectionate pat. "I never knew boys could be so nice, till I saw you."</p> + +<p>Rock laughed. "That's a pretty big compliment," he said.</p> + +<p>"It isn't a compliment; it's the truth."</p> + +<p>"And a compliment can't be the truth, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I don't know. Can it?"</p> + +<p>"Of course; though just flattering words aren't always the truth. I've +heard ladies who came to see mamma say, 'What a sweet child your little +one is!'" Rock said this very affectedly, and the girls laughed. "And +you know," Rock went on, "they didn't know a thing about me; they just +said it to make mamma feel pleased, and that's what I call flattery."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I think I see," said Dimple.</p> + +<p>The three days that followed were very merry ones for the children. They +frolicked from morning till night, and did more wonderful things than +ever they had dreamed of doing before.</p> + +<p>Rock was the nicest sort of comrade, and they got along without any +fusses whatever. Sunday was their last day together, for Florence was +to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">207</a></span> go the next day, too, under the care of Mr. and Mrs. Heath Dallas, +and her trunk was standing, packed, ready to be sent.</p> + +<p>"Won't we have a pew full this morning?" said Dimple, at the breakfast +table. "Five people. Rock, you must sit between Florence and me. I can +sit next to mamma, and Florence next to papa."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; let me sit by auntie," said Florence.</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Dimple. "I can sit by papa just as well, and if I get +sleepy I can tumble over on him."</p> + +<p>Papa laughed and said it was a pleasant prospect for him.</p> + +<p>The church windows were open, a soft breeze fluttered the leaves outside +and the slow rustle of fans fluttered bonnet strings inside.</p> + +<p>Dimple leaned her head back against the pew, and looked out at the white +clouds drifting across the sky, so dreamily and softly; she heard the +birds singing in the trees, and now and then came back to a +consciousness of the minister's voice, and she caught a sentence here +and there; but she could not fix her attention on the sermon at all; she +was thinking of the dreaded to-morrow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</a></span> that would take her playmates +away from her. The quiet and solemnity of the place only added to the +sadness of her thoughts, and as the last hymn was being sung, the tears +gathered in her eyes and dropped silently down on her book.</p> + +<p>Finally she could stand it no longer, but slipped down on her knees, +buried her face in the cushions, and fairly sobbed.</p> + +<p>No one knew what was the matter, and Mrs. Dallas looked distressed, +fearing she was ill. Mr. Dallas leaned down toward her, and whispered, +"Are you ill, Dimple?"</p> + +<p>But she shook her head, and when the hymn was ended, he drew her close +to him, and put his arm around her, while she kept her face hidden on +his shoulder.</p> + +<p>No one could tell what ailed her, as every question only brought a fresh +burst of tears, and she walked home in silence.</p> + +<p>It was not until they were in the house, that she could tell what +affected her.</p> + +<p>Then her mother took her on her lap, and she had her cry out there, +while Florence and Rock, looking much concerned, stood by.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">209</a></span></p> + +<p>"Tell me, daughter, what ails you," her mother said, pushing back the +curls from the little tear-stained face.</p> + +<p>"It was so solemn—and—I was thinking about everybody's going away +to-morrow," she said, between her sobs. "Then they sang—'Where friend +holds fellowship with friend. Though sundered far'—and all that—and I +couldn't stand it any longer," and the tears still rained down her face.</p> + +<p>At this Florence's eyes filled up, and she put her arms around Dimple, +and they cried together, while it took Mrs. Dallas, Rock, and Mr. +Dallas, all three, to comfort them.</p> + +<p>"You will soon be going to school, Dimple," said her papa, "and then you +will have ever so many playmates."</p> + +<p>"And you are coming to see us next winter," said Rock.</p> + +<p>"And you will have mamma left, anyhow," said her mother, hugging her up +close.</p> + +<p>So among them all, the tears were dried; and before dinner was over, +they were all laughing as joyously as ever.</p> + +<p>The only excitement left was to watch for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">210</a></span> arrival of Rock's papa +and mamma, who were to come that evening.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, while Rock and Florence were reading, Dimple heard +Bubbles her Sunday lesson. She always taught her one of the hymns she +had herself learned, and a Bible verse or two.</p> + +<p>Bubbles was not very quick at learning the verses, but delighted in the +hymns, and sang them with Dimple, with great vigor.</p> + +<p>This afternoon, however, it was quite wearisome to Dimple, for her cry +had given her a headache, and she cut the lesson very short so as to get +back to Rock and Florence.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't like to be a teacher," she said, throwing herself down on +the lounge.</p> + +<p>"I should," said Florence. "I love my teacher at school dearly; she is +the sweetest, dearest thing, we girls almost fight over her."</p> + +<p>"Do you? How funny," said Dimple.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, we take her flowers, and candy, and big apples and oranges; +sometimes her desk is full."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I shan't like my teacher," said Dimple.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">211</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you know her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a little; she has been here to tea. She isn't so awful, and I +should like her, perhaps, if I didn't know I had to go to school to +her."</p> + +<p>"Do you know many of the girls?"</p> + +<p>"One or two. You saw that girl who sat in front of us at church, she is +one."</p> + +<p>"You will get used to it real soon," said Rock. "I felt just as you do +before I went to school, and it is worse for a boy; the other boys just +go for him, and I had a hard time for the first few weeks, but now I +like it first-rate."</p> + +<p>"It is the getting used to it, that I dread," sighed Dimple; "that has +to come first."</p> + +<p>"No," said Rock, "papa and mamma come first, and it is nearly time for +them now; let's go on the front porch and watch."</p> + +<p>"It is so sunny there," said Dimple.</p> + +<p>"Not if we sit at the end. Come on."</p> + +<p>So they went out and took up positions at the end of the porch.</p> + +<p>"I want to see mamma and Gertrude, and all, awfully," said Florence, +"but, indeed I hate to leave here," looking around. "I shall miss the +trees, and flowers, and all the sweet things."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">212</a></span></p> + +<p>"So shall I," said Rock. "What a good time we have had this summer."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Haven't we?" said Dimple, looking sober.</p> + +<p>"Don't talk about it any more," said Rock. "It makes my Cousin Eleanor +feel bad."</p> + +<p>This made Dimple smile, and presently they saw coming up the street a +carriage, which they felt sure would stop.</p> + +<p>They all ran down to the gate, and the carriage did draw up by the +sidewalk, and Rock was the first to open the door of it, and in another +minute was in his mother's arms.</p> + +<p>Then they all went into the house, and made ready for tea.</p> + +<p>All that evening Dimple sat with one arm around Florence; and, although +Rock was so glad to see his mother, he said that he would have Dimple so +short a time that he must sit by her, and the three children sat on the +steps, Rock holding Dimple's hand and trying his best to cheer her up.</p> + +<p>But a more doleful face than appeared at the breakfast table could not +be found.</p> + +<p>"You must get your Aunt Dora and Florence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">213</a></span> some nice flowers to take +with them," said Mrs. Dallas to Dimple.</p> + +<p>"My Aunt Dora! How queer that is, mamma. I have been wondering, is he +Rock Hardy or Rock Dallas?"</p> + +<p>"He is Rock Hardy."</p> + +<p>"I never will get it straight," she said, as she went to get the +flowers.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Heath," she said, after she had laid the flowers in damp cotton, +and put them in boxes, "you may be very happy, but I am not, and I wish +you'd leave Rock with me."</p> + +<p>He smiled as he looked down at her, and said, "I can't, dear child, but +you shall see him often. Baltimore is not very far away."</p> + +<p>"Well, I am much obliged to you for making a cousin of him," she said, +as she turned away.</p> + +<p>"Poor little girl," said he to her mother, "she takes this parting very +much to heart."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said her mother, "she has never had any very intimate friends, +and her cousins have never paid her as long a visit as Florence has this +time. As for Rock, he is the only boy she has ever liked at all, and he +is a nice boy. You have quite a model son, Heath."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">214</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I think so too," said he.</p> + +<p>At last the trunks were all off, Celestine was dressed in her traveling +frock, a grey veil on her hat; the children thought her very stylish.</p> + +<p>"Poor Rubina!" sighed Dimple, bravely trying to keep back the tears.</p> + +<p>Rock had volunteered to take charge of the two kittens, so Jet and +Marble were mewing in a basket.</p> + +<p>"And poor little Nyxy, you will be lonely too," said Dimple, hiding her +face in his furry coat.</p> + +<p>"You will be sure to write to us, won't you Dimple," said Florence, "and +tell all about school, and everything."</p> + +<p>"I will," said Dimple, choking up.</p> + +<p>"Don't cry," said both Rock and Florence, coaxingly.</p> + +<p>"No, I will not, I made up my mind not to, because mamma might think I +didn't love her," answered Dimple, while her tears slowly trickled down +her cheeks.</p> + +<p>At last all was ready,—doll, kittens, and boxes, and the good-byes were +said. Bubbles and Dimple at the gate waved handkerchiefs as long as they +could see the carriage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">215</a></span></p> + +<p>Then Dimple turned slowly into the house, unable to keep back the +torrent of tears, and after she went into the library she buried her +face in the sofa pillow, sobbing aloud; then she felt a pair of arms +clasp her knees and saw two tearful black eyes looking up into her face, +while Bubbles' caressing voice said, "Never min', Miss Dimple, I'se +hyah."</p> + +<hr class='full' /> + +<h2>MOTOR CYCLE SERIES</h2> + +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:120%;'>Splendid Motor Cycle Stories</span><br /> +By LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON.<br /> +Author of "Boy Scout Series."<br /> +Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 50c. per vol., postpaid</p> + +<div class='figleft' style='width: 120px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<img src='images/illus-216.png' alt='' title='' width = '100' height = '143'/> +</div> + +<p><b>THE MOTOR CYCLE CHUMS AROUND THE WORLD.</b></p> + +<p>Could Jules Verne have dreamed of encircling the globe with a motor +cycle for emergencies he would have deemed it an achievement greater +than any he describes in his account of the amusing travels of Philias +Fogg. This, however, is the purpose successfully carried out by the +Motor Cycle Chums, and the tale of their mishaps, hindrances and delays +is one of intense interest, secret amusement, and incidental information +to the reader.</p> + +<p><b>THE MOTOR CYCLE CHUMS OF THE NORTHWEST PATROL.</b></p> + +<p>The Great Northwest is a section of vast possibilities and in it the +Motor Cycle Chums meet adventures even more unusual and exciting than +many of their experiences on their tour around the world. There is not a +dull page in this lively narrative of clever boys and their attendant +"Chinee."</p> + +<p><b>THE MOTOR CYCLE CHUMS IN THE GOLD FIELDS.</b></p> + +<p>The gold fever which ran its rapid course through the veins of the +historic "forty-niners" recurs at certain intervals, and seizes its +victims with almost irresistible power. The search for gold is so +fascinating to the seekers that hardship, danger and failure are +obstacles that scarcely dampen their ardour. How the Motor Cycle Chums +were caught by the lure of the gold and into what difficulties and novel +experiences they were led, makes a tale of thrilling interest.</p> + +<p class='center'>Any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price.<br /> +HURST & COMPANY—Publishers—NEW YORK</p> + +<hr class='full' /> + +<h2>GIRL AVIATORS SERIES</h2> + +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:120%;'>Clean Aviation Stories</span><br /> +By MARGARET BURNHAM.<br /> +Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 50c. per vol., postpaid</p> + +<div class='figleft' style='width: 120px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<img src='images/illus-217.png' alt='' title='' width = '100' height = '137'/> +</div> + +<p><b>THE GIRL AVIATORS AND THE PHANTOM AIRSHIP.</b></p> + +<p>Roy Prescott was fortunate in having a sister so clever and devoted to +him and his interests that they could share work and play with mutual +pleasure and to mutual advantage. This proved especially true in +relation to the manufacture and manipulation of their aeroplane, and +Peggy won well deserved fame for her skill and good sense as an aviator. +There were many stumbling-blocks in their terrestrial path, but they +soared above them all to ultimate success.</p> + +<p><b>THE GIRL AVIATORS ON GOLDEN WINGS.</b></p> + +<p>That there is a peculiar fascination about aviation that wins and holds +girl enthusiasts as well as boys is proved by this tale. On golden wings +the girl aviators rose for many an exciting flight, and met strange and +unexpected experiences.</p> + +<p><b>THE GIRL AVIATORS' SKY CRUISE.</b></p> + +<p>To most girls a coaching or yachting trip is an adventure. How much more +perilous an adventure a "sky cruise" might be is suggested by the title +and proved by the story itself.</p> + +<p><b>THE GIRL AVIATORS' MOTOR BUTTERFLY.</b></p> + +<p>The delicacy of flight suggested by the word "butterfly," the mechanical +power implied by "motor," the ability to control assured in the title +"aviator," all combined with the personality and enthusiasm of girls +themselves, make this story one for any girl or other reader "to go +crazy over."</p> + +<p class='center'>Any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price.<br /> +HURST & COMPANY—Publishers—NEW YORK</p> + +<hr class='full' /> + +<h2>MOTOR MAIDS SERIES</h2> + +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:120%;'>Wholesome Stories of Adventure</span><br /> +By KATHERINE STOKES.<br /> +Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 50c. per vol., postpaid</p> + +<div class='figleft' style='width: 120px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<img src='images/illus-218.png' alt='' title='' width = '100' height = '140'/> +</div> + +<p><b>THE MOTOR MAIDS' SCHOOL DAYS.</b></p> + +<p>Billie Campbell was just the type of a straightforward, athletic girl to +be successful as a practical Motor Maid. She took her car, as she did +her class-mates, to her heart, and many a grand good time did they have +all together. The road over which she ran her red machine had many an +unexpected turning,—now it led her into peculiar danger; now into +contact with strange travelers; and again into experiences by fire and +water. But, best of all, "The Comet" never failed its brave girl owner.</p> + +<p><b>THE MOTOR MAIDS BY PALM AND PINE.</b></p> + +<p>Wherever the Motor Maids went there were lively times, for these were +companionable girls who looked upon the world as a vastly interesting +place full of unique adventures—and so, of course, they found them.</p> + +<p><b>THE MOTOR MAIDS ACROSS THE CONTINENT.</b></p> + +<p>It is always interesting to travel, and it is wonderfully entertaining +to see old scenes through fresh eyes. It is that privilege, therefore, +that makes it worth while to join the Motor Maids in their first +'cross-country run.</p> + +<p><b>THE MOTOR MAIDS BY ROSE, SHAMROCK AND HEATHER.</b></p> + +<p>South and West had the Motor Maids motored, nor could their education by +travel have been more wisely begun. But now a speaking acquaintance with +their own country enriched their anticipation of an introduction to the +British Isles. How they made their polite American bow and how they were +received on the other side is a tale of interest and inspiration.</p> + +<p class='center'>Any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price.<br /> +HURST & COMPANY—Publishers—NEW YORK</p> + +<hr class='full' /> + +<h2>BOY INVENTORS SERIES</h2> + +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:120%;'>Stories of Skill and Ingenuity</span><br /> +By RICHARD BONNER<br /> +Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 50c. per vol., postpaid</p> + +<div class='figleft' style='width: 120px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<img src='images/illus-219.png' alt='' title='' width = '100' height = '142'/> +</div> + +<p><b>THE BOY INVENTORS' WIRELESS TELEGRAPH.</b></p> + +<p>Blest with natural curiosity,—sometimes called the instinct of +investigation,—favored with golden opportunity, and gifted with +creative ability, the Boy Inventors meet emergencies and contrive +mechanical wonders that interest and convince the reader because they +always "work" when put to the test.</p> + +<p><b>THE BOY INVENTORS' VANISHING GUN.</b></p> + +<p>A thought, a belief, an experiment; discouragement, hope, effort and +final success—this is the history of many an invention; a history in +which excitement, competition, danger, despair and persistence figure. +This merely suggests the circumstances which draw the daring Boy +Inventors into strange experiences and startling adventures, and which +demonstrate the practical use of their vanishing gun.</p> + +<p><b>THE BOY INVENTORS' DIVING TORPEDO BOAT.</b></p> + +<p>As in the previous stories of the Boy Inventors, new and interesting +triumphs of mechanism are produced which become immediately valuable, +and the stage for their proving and testing is again the water. On the +surface and below it, the boys have jolly, contagious fun, and the story +of their serious, purposeful inventions challenge the reader's deepest +attention.</p> + +<p class='center'>Any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price.<br /> +HURST & COMPANY—Publishers—NEW YORK</p> + +<hr class='full' /> + +<h2>BORDER BOYS SERIES</h2> + +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:120%;'>Mexican and Canadian Frontier Series</span><br /> +By FREMONT B. DEERING.<br /> +Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 50c. per vol., postpaid</p> + +<div class='figleft' style='width: 120px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<img src='images/illus-220.png' alt='' title='' width = '100' height = '135'/> +</div> + +<p><b>THE BORDER BOYS ON THE TRAIL.</b></p> + +<p>What it meant to make an enemy of Black Ramon De Barios—that is the +problem that Jack Merrill and his friends, including Coyote Pete, face +in this exciting tale.</p> + +<p><b>THE BORDER BOYS ACROSS THE FRONTIER.</b></p> + +<p>Read of the Haunted Mesa and its mysteries, of the Subterranean River +and its strange uses, of the value of gasolene and steam "in running the +gauntlet," and you will feel that not even the ancient splendors of the +Old World can furnish a better setting for romantic action than the +Border of the New.</p> + +<p><b>THE BORDER BOYS WITH THE MEXICAN RANGERS.</b></p> + +<p>As every day is making history—faster, it is said, than ever before—so +books that keep pace with the changes are full of rapid action and +accurate facts. This book deals with lively times on the Mexican border.</p> + +<p><b>THE BORDER BOYS WITH THE TEXAS RANGERS.</b></p> + +<p>The Border Boys have already had much excitement and adventure in their +lives, but all this has served to prepare them for the experiences +related in this volume. They are stronger, braver and more resourceful +than ever, and the exigencies of their life in connection with the Texas +Rangers demand all their trained ability.</p> + +<p class='center'>Any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price.<br /> +HURST & COMPANY—Publishers—NEW YORK</p> + +<hr class='full' /> + +<h2>BUNGALOW BOYS SERIES</h2> + +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:120%;'>LIVE STORIES OF OUTDOOR LIFE</span><br /> +By DEXTER J. FORRESTER.<br /> +Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 50c. per vol., postpaid</p> + +<div class='figleft' style='width: 120px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<img src='images/illus-221.png' alt='' title='' width = '100' height = '137'/> +</div> + +<p><b>THE BUNGALOW BOYS.</b></p> + +<p>How the Bungalow Boys received their title and how they retained the +right to it in spite of much opposition makes a lively narrative for +lively boys.</p> + +<p><b>THE BUNGALOW BOYS MAROONED IN THE TROPICS.</b></p> + +<p>A real treasure hunt of the most thrilling kind, with a sunken Spanish +galleon as its object, makes a subject of intense interest at any time, +but add to that a band of desperate men, a dark plot and a devil fish, +and you have the combination that brings strange adventures into the +lives of the Bungalow Boys.</p> + +<p><b>THE BUNGALOW BOYS IN THE GREAT NORTH WEST.</b></p> + +<p>The clever assistance of a young detective saves the boys from the +clutches of Chinese smugglers, of whose nefarious trade they know too +much. How the Professor's invention relieves a critical situation is +also an exciting incident of this book.</p> + +<p><b>THE BUNGALOW BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES.</b></p> + +<p>The Bungalow Boys start out for a quiet cruise on the Great Lakes and a +visit to an island. A storm and a band of wreckers interfere with the +serenity of their trip, and a submarine adds zest and adventure to it.</p> + +<p class='center'>Any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price.<br /> +HURST & COMPANY—Publishers—NEW YORK</p> + +<hr class='full' /> + +<h2>MOTOR RANGERS SERIES</h2> + +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:120%;'>HIGH SPEED MOTOR STORIES</span><br /> +By MARVIN WEST.<br /> +Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 50c. per vol., postpaid</p> + +<div class='figleft' style='width: 120px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<img src='images/illus-222.png' alt='' title='' width = '100' height = '139'/> +</div> + +<p><b>THE MOTOR RANGERS' LOST MINE.</b></p> + +<p>This is an absorbing story of the continuous adventures of a motor car +in the hands of Nat Trevor and his friends. It does seemingly impossible +"stunts," and yet everything happens "in the nick of time."</p> + +<p><b>THE MOTOR RANGERS THROUGH THE SIERRAS.</b></p> + +<p>Enemies in ambush, the peril of fire, and the guarding of treasure make +exciting times for the Motor Rangers—yet there is a strong flavor of +fun and freedom, with a typical Western mountaineer for spice.</p> + +<p><b>THE MOTOR RANGERS ON BLUE WATER; or, The Secret of the Derelict.</b></p> + +<p>The strange adventures of the sturdy craft "Nomad" and the stranger +experiences of the Rangers themselves with Morello's schooner and a +mysterious derelict form the basis of this well-spun yarn of the sea.</p> + +<p><b>THE MOTOR RANGERS' CLOUD CRUISER.</b></p> + +<p>From the "Nomad" to the "Discoverer," from the sea to the sky, the scene +changes in which the Motor Rangers figure. They have experiences "that +never were on land or sea," in heat and cold and storm, over mountain +peak and lost city, with savages and reptiles; their ship of the air is +attacked by huge birds of the air; they survive explosion and +earthquake; they even live to tell the tale!</p> + +<p class='center'>Any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price.<br /> +HURST & COMPANY—Publishers—NEW YORK</p> + +<hr class='full' /> + +<h2>DREADNOUGHT BOYS SERIES</h2> + +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:120%;'>Tales of the New Navy</span><br /> +By CAPT. WILBUR LAWTON<br /> +Author of "BOY AVIATORS SERIES."<br /> +Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 50c. per vol., postpaid</p> + +<div class='figleft' style='width: 120px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<img src='images/illus-223.png' alt='' title='' width = '100' height = '132'/> +</div> + +<p><b>THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS ON BATTLE PRACTICE.</b></p> + +<p>Especially interesting and timely is this book which introduces the +reader with its heroes, Ned and Herc, to the great ships of modern +warfare and to the intimate life and surprising adventures of Uncle +Sam's sailors.</p> + +<p><b>THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS ABOARD A DESTROYER.</b></p> + +<p>In this story real dangers threaten and the boys' patriotism is tested +in a peculiar international tangle. The scene is laid on the South +American coast.</p> + +<p><b>THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS ON A SUBMARINE.</b></p> + +<p>To the inventive genius—trade-school boy or mechanic—this story has +special charm, perhaps, but to every reader its mystery and clever +action are fascinating.</p> + +<p><b>THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS ON AERO SERVICE.</b></p> + +<p>Among the volunteers accepted for Aero Service are Ned and Herc. Their +perilous adventures are not confined to the air, however, although they +make daring and notable flights in the name of the Government; nor are +they always able to fly beyond the reach of their old "enemies," who are +also airmen.</p> + +<p class='center'>Any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price.<br /> +HURST & COMPANY—Publishers—NEW YORK</p> + +<hr class='full' /> + +<h2>FRANK ARMSTRONG SERIES</h2> + +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:120%;'>Twentieth Century Athletic Stories</span><br /> +By MATHEW M. COLTON.<br /> +Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 60c. per vol., postpaid</p> + +<div class='figleft' style='width: 120px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<img src='images/illus-224.png' alt='' title='' width = '100' height = '133'/> +</div> + +<p><b>FRANK ARMSTRONG'S VACATION.</b></p> + +<p>How Frank's summer experience with his boy friends make him into a +sturdy young athlete through swimming, boating, and baseball contests, +and a tramp through the Everglades, is the subject of this splendid +story.</p> + +<p><b>FRANK ARMSTRONG AT QUEENS.</b></p> + +<p>We find among the jolly boys at Queen's School, Frank, the +student-athlete, Jimmy, the baseball enthusiast, and Lewis, the +unconsciously-funny youth who furnishes comedy for every page that bears +his name. Fall and winter sports between intensely rival school teams +are expertly described.</p> + +<p><b>FRANK ARMSTRONG'S SECOND TERM.</b></p> + +<p>The gymnasium, the track and the field make the background for the +stirring events of this volume, in which David, Jimmy, Lewis, the "Wee +One" and the "Codfish" figure, while Frank "saves the day."</p> + +<p><b>FRANK ARMSTRONG, DROP KICKER.</b></p> + +<p>With the same persistent determination that won him success in swimming, +running and baseball playing, Frank Armstrong acquired the art of "drop +kicking," and the Queen's football team profits thereby.</p> + +<p class='center'>Any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price.<br /> +HURST & COMPANY—Publishers—NEW YORK</p> + +<hr class='full' /> + +<h2>OAKDALE ACADEMY SERIES</h2> + +<p class='center'><span style='font-size:120%;'>Stories of Modern School Sports</span><br /> +By MORGAN SCOTT.<br /> +Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 60c. per vol., postpaid</p> + +<div class='figleft' style='width: 120px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<img src='images/illus-225.png' alt='' title='' width = '100' height = '125'/> +</div> + +<p><b>BEN STONE AT OAKDALE.</b></p> + +<p>Under peculiarly trying circumstances Ben Stone wins his way at Oakdale +Academy, and at the same time enlists our sympathy, interest and +respect. Through the enmity of Bern Hayden, the loyalty of Roger Eliot +and the clever work of the "Sleuth," Ben is falsely accused, championed +and vindicated.</p> + +<p><b>BOYS OF OAKDALE ACADEMY.</b></p> + +<p>"One thing I will claim, and that is that all Grants fight open and +square and there never was a sneak among them." It was Rodney Grant, of +Texas, who made the claim to his friend, Ben Stone, and this story shows +how he proved the truth of this statement in the face of apparent +evidence to the contrary.</p> + +<p><b>RIVAL PITCHERS OF OAKDALE.</b></p> + +<p>Baseball is the main theme of this interesting narrative, and that means +not only clear and clever descriptions of thrilling games, but an +intimate acquaintance with the members of the teams who played them. The +Oakdale Boys were ambitious and loyal, and some were even disgruntled +and jealous, but earnest, persistent work won out.</p> + +<p><b>OAKDALE BOYS IN CAMP.</b></p> + +<p>The typical vacation is the one that means much freedom, little +restriction, and immediate contact with "all outdoors." These conditions +prevailed in the summer camp of the Oakdale Boys and made it a scene of +lively interest.</p> + +<p><b>THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY.</b></p> + +<p>The "Sleuth" scents a mystery! He "follows his nose." The plot thickens! +He makes deductions. There are surprises for the reader—and for the +"Sleuth," as well.</p> + +<p><b>NEW BOYS AT OAKDALE.</b></p> + +<p>A new element creeps into Oakdale with another year's registration of +students. The old and the new standards of conduct in and out of school +meet, battle, and cause sweeping changes in the lives of several of the +boys.</p> + +<p class='center'>Any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price.<br /> +HURST & COMPANY—Publishers—NEW YORK</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Sweet Little Maid, by Amy E. 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