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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Budge & Toddie, by John Habberton
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-
-
-Title: Budge & Toddie
- Helen's Babies at Play
-
-Author: John Habberton
-
-Illustrator: Tod Dwiggins
-
-Release Date: June 10, 2016 [EBook #52298]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUDGE & TODDIE ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by David Edwards, Les Galloway and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
-file was produced from images generously made available
-by The Internet Archive)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
- BUDGE AND TODDIE
- OR
- HELEN’S BABIES AT PLAY
-
-[Illustration: THE MAID’S GENERAL CARE OF THE BOYS]
-
-
-[Illustration: Cartoon representation of Title Page]
-
- BUDGE & TODDIE
-
- OR
-
- HELEN’S BABIES
- AT PLAY
-
- Being an account
- of the further doings of these
- marvelously precocious children.
-
- By JOHN HABBERTON
-
- AUTHOR OF HELEN’S BABIES, etc., etc..
-
- With fifty illustrations by TOD DWIGGINS
-
- GROSSET AND DUNLAP
- NEW YORK
-
-
-
-
- COPYRIGHT, 1908, BY
-
- GROSSET & DUNLAP
-
- _BUDGE & TODDIE_
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: DEDICATION]
-
-The Author of “Helen’s Babies” dedicated that book “To the Parents
-of the Best Children in the World”; and his commercial hint appended
-thereunto was so generally taken, that he is impelled by selfishness to
-seek even a larger class to which to inscribe the present volume. He
-therefore dedicates it to
-
-=Those Who Know How to Manage Other People’s Children=.
-
-
-
-
-Introduction
-
-
-The many indulgent men and women who liked “Helen’s Babies” so well
-that they wished they had written it themselves would have changed
-their minds could they have been compelled to read criticisms of a
-certain kind that were inflicted upon the author as soon as his name
-and mail address became known. Some people were in such haste to
-relieve their minds that they rushed into print with their charges and
-specifications, all of which were of service to the book, as so much
-free advertising; at least, the publisher said it was, and his opinion
-on such a matter was entitled to special respect.
-
-Some of the critics were parents of the earnest, forceful, but
-matter-of-fact kind that does not doubt its own infallibility in family
-government and regards all children as scions of one unchanging stock
-and needing to be treated exactly alike, no matter in what direction
-their tendencies may be. A larger number were unmarried persons with
-theories of their own which had not been marred in whole or in part by
-anything so utterly commonplace and exasperating as experience. These
-good people, whether uncles or aunts of children over whom they were
-not allowed to exercise any authority, or mere bachelors and maids
-unattached to anybody’ babies of any kind, joined in abusing Budge and
-Toddie as the worst trained children that ever were tossed into print
-and in declaring the boys’s Uncle Harry incomparably incapable as a
-disciplinarian, unless, indeed, the parents of Budge and Toddie were
-still less competent to bring up children in the way they should go.
-
-Still another class was composed of professional teachers who had
-taken long, serious courses of instruction in juvenile humanity, its
-nature, possibilities, limitations, duties and mental conditions at
-specified ages. Apparently these regarded a child as something created
-for the special purpose of being subjected to personal, exact and
-continuous domination by adults, and to be let alone only when the
-adults themselves wearied of the strain. To prove the unfitness of the
-boys’s uncle and their parents to have the care of children they quoted
-fluently from standard authorities on education, all the way from
-Aristotle, concerning whose children history is silent, to Froebel, the
-founder of the kindergarten system, who was childless.
-
-Others who joined in the effort to analyze this literary butterfly with
-a mallet were of the class that could not understand why the misdeeds
-and shortcomings of Budge and Toddie were not treated with reproofs and
-warnings deduced from certain catechisms, of which infant depravity is
-a popular feature. And there were the people that never read a book but
-on compulsion. Anyone errs greatly who believes that this class lacks
-intelligence, for the world has contained many wondrously clever people
-who could not read or write; nevertheless, men and women who seldom
-read anything do take any book seriously, no matter if it deserves
-as little attention as last year’s almanac. Some of them sought out
-the author, after reading “Helen’s Babies,” to tell him in good faith
-what they would have done to Budge and Toddie to correct some alleged
-deficiencies.
-
-It was useless to assure any of these unexpected critics that the
-author was not himself the hero of his story, or that he had never been
-manager of other people’s children when he was a bachelor, unless
-unwillingly and for a few moments at a time, or that his book was not
-in any sense a disclosure of the methods he would have followed had
-such a responsibility been thrust upon him, or that it was no longer
-fashionable for a man to write an amusing sketch for the purpose
-of covertly inculcating a lot of moral principles, like so many
-sugar-coated pills, or that for some years he had been joint owner of
-some children to whose mental and moral well-being he had given more
-thought and care than to his business interests and almost everything
-else that men live for, and consequently he might be regarded as beyond
-the need of volunteer counsel and admonition.
-
-The criticisms continued until the author repented of having written
-the story that was the cause of them. But one day a publisher asked
-for some more--much more--about Budge and Toddie, to be published
-serially, and the inducements he offered were so timely and convincing
-that regrets and critics alike were laughed at. The stock of available
-material was unlimited, for had not many mothers reproached the author
-for not having put into print the tales they had told him of their
-own boys’s doings--tales which they knew were far funnier than any
-recorded in “Helen’s Babies”--and had not many other mothers given
-him capital stories with positive orders to put them in shape for
-publication and do so quickly? Besides, he had a store of similar
-material in his own mind. How to use the aggregate mass of incident did
-not readily appear to his mind’s eye, for he had been too long engaged,
-professionally, in picking other men’s books to pieces to have found
-time to learn how best to put together a book of his own. He had not
-a novelist’s privilege of choosing from many meritorious models, for
-tales about children, yet written principally to be read by adults,
-were very few and of doubtful quality.
-
-Suddenly out of nowhere, apparently, came the suggestion that the
-possible experiences of some one, any one, of the critics who knew
-exactly how other people’s children should be managed would be a good
-framework for the desired story. Naturally the person most confident of
-such ability would be the best character for the purpose, so it should
-be a young, whole-hearted woman of positive nature, who loved children
-dearly but had none of her own to disarrange her theories. Facts
-have always been the most pestilent enemies of theories, and children
-are facts, sometimes stubborn facts, always startling ones when they
-encounter any theory not founded on the rock of experience.
-
-So the tale was begun in haste, as well as in glee over its probable
-effect on some of the men and women who had been burdening the author’s
-ears and mail-box with criticism and counsel. Whether any of them ever
-read a line of it when it appeared serially, or afterward in book
-form, remains unknown; probably it is better so, for the author was
-thereby spared the meanness of exultation over men and women quite as
-well-meaning as himself, or spared the humiliation of discovering that
-he had done his work so badly that they were unconscious of what he had
-attempted to do. And, really, none of them was any wiser in his own
-conceit than was the author himself before he had any children of his
-own yet was sure he knew how other people’ children should be trained,
-admonished, controlled, restrained, disciplined and otherwise tormented
-by their parents.
-
-The new book was spared a depressing experience of its predecessor,
-for, instead of being declined by almost every reputable publisher
-in the United States, it was demanded by several before the second
-instalment appeared and the number of requests for it increased week by
-week as the serial issue continued.
-
-But, like almost everything else from the same pen, “Other People’s
-Children” was written so hastily and put to press so carelessly that it
-abounded in repetitions and other errors that made cultivated readers
-grieve, so an opportunity to allow the book to drop out of print was
-welcomed by the author.
-
-Nevertheless he was compelled to believe his friends and enemies when
-they insisted that “Other People’s Children” was an abler and more
-amusing story than “Helen’s Babies,” for their opinion agreed with
-his own. So he has responded gladly to the request of the present
-publishers that he should give the copy a careful revision. It is
-extremely unlikely that any reader of the old edition will detect any
-alterations in the new, for nothing has been added nor has anything of
-consequence been taken out; yet the author and publishers know that
-more than a thousand corrections and emendations have been made and
-that almost all of them were needed.
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS
-
- Page
- CHAPTER I 1
- CHAPTER II 32
- CHAPTER III 71
- CHAPTER IV 103
- CHAPTER V 135
- CHAPTER VI 165
- CHAPTER VII 195
- CHAPTER VIII 224
- CHAPTER IX 251
- CHAPTER X 277
- CHAPTER XI 302
- CHAPTER XII 332
- FAMOUS COPYRIGHT BOOKS IN POPULAR PRICED EDITIONS
-
-
-
-
-LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
-
-
- The Maid’s General Care of the Boys _Frontispiece._
-
- Mrs. Burton Brushed a Tiny Crumb from Her _Page_
- Robe _Facing_ 4
-
- “It’s Only Jus’ About So Long” 9
-
- “We’s Makin’ Pickles for You” 17
-
- “I Got Into a Hen’s Nesht Where There Was Some
- Eggs” 23
-
- “Isn’t It Lovaly?” _Facing_ 30
-
- “Ragged, Dirty Men Talk to My Papa Sometimes” 37
-
- “Yes, an’ We Put a Little Stone at the Head of the
- Grave” 43
-
- “Don’t Either of You Move Out of a Chair?” 47
-
- “--But I Didn’t Know Ashes Made ’Em” 53
-
- “Splashin’ In the Bathtub” 59
-
- “Jump!” Shouted Mr. Burton _Facing_ 66
-
- “Cats,” Uttered Mr. Burton 75
-
- Both Started In Chase of It 79
-
- “Tell Me What You Think About It” _Facing_ 92
-
- “We Got Three or Four Nice Bunches” 99
-
- “So I Putted Crosses on the Door” 101
-
- “Then You Can Only Have One Bite,” Said Budge 107
-
- “Where Did the Cards Come From?” 113
-
- He Kicked, Pushed, Screamed and Roared 119
-
- The Jardiniére Came Down With a Crash 125
-
- “Threw a Mean Old Dirty Carpet On Top of It” _Facing_ 130
-
- Toddie Playing Bear 137
-
- Budge Taking Up the Collection _Facing_ 146
-
- Terry 155
-
- The General Fell Into the Water _Facing_ 160
-
- “Dreamin’ I was In a Candy-Store” 167
-
- “Wonder How Big Moons Got to be Little Again” 173
-
- “A Cow Readin’ An Atlas” 175
-
- “How Do They Get Things to Eat for the Angels?” 181
-
- The Squeak of the Violin and the Wail of a Badly
- Played Wind Instrument 187
-
- Uncle Harry’s Frantic Examination of His Beloved
- Violin 193
-
- Both Boys Tumbled Into the Room 199
-
- Toddie Drank About Two Swallows of Water _Facing_ 204
-
- Suddenly Heard a Splash and a Howl 211
-
- Budge Enlivened the Dust of the Roadway 215
-
- Further Progress Was Arrested _Facing_ 222
-
- “Well,” Said Budge “’Cause You’re Different” 227
-
- Pretending to be Horses _Facing_ 232
-
- Budge Lost His Balance 239
-
- Two Inquiring Faces Hanging Over the Bread-Pan 243
-
- A Loud Report Startled the Party _Facing_ 246
-
- “Too Much Tea Isn’t Good for People, Is It?” 253
-
- “When We Cooked ’Em, What Do You Think?” _Facing_ 256
-
- Budge and Toddie Playing Doctor 265
-
- Down the Stairs, Dashed Terry 271
-
- “Why Aunt Alice! How Did You Upset That
- Table?” 275
-
- A Red Pepper Experience _Facing_ 288
-
- Candy Making 295
-
- The Dandelion 301
-
- “We’re Goin’ Home” 303
-
- “Some Nashty Medshin” 313
-
- “Izhe a Shotted Soldier” _Facing_ 322
-
- Both Boys Sleeping Soundly 333
-
- The Obedient Member of the Family _Facing_ 340
-
- Making Them What I Would Like Them To Be 351
-
- A Little Visitor at the Burtons’s 357
-
-
-
-
-BUDGE AND TODDIE
-
-OR
-
-HELEN’S BABIES AT PLAY
-
-
-The writer of a certain much-abused book sat at breakfast one morning
-with his wife, and their conversation turned, as it had many times
-before, upon a brace of boys who had made a little fun for the lovers
-of trifling stories and a great deal of trouble for their uncle. Mrs.
-Burton, thanks to that womanly generosity which, like a garment, covers
-the faults of men who are happily married, was so proud of her husband
-that she admired even his book; she had made magnificent attempts to
-defend it at points where it was utterly indefensible; but her critical
-sense had been frequently offended by her husband’s ignorance regarding
-the management of children. On the particular morning referred to, this
-critical sense was extremely active.
-
-“To know, Harry,” said Mrs. Burton, “that you gave so little true
-personal attention to Budge and Toddie, while you professed to love
-them with the tenderness peculiar to blood-relationship, is to wonder
-whether some people do not really expect children to grow as the forest
-trees grow, utterly without care or training.”
-
-“I spent most of my time,” Mr. Burton replied, attacking his steak with
-more energy than was called for at the breakfast-table of a man whose
-business hours were easy, “I spent most of my time in saving their
-parents’ property and their own lives from destruction. When had I an
-opportunity to do anything else?”
-
-A smile of conscious superiority, the honesty of which made it none the
-less tantalizing, passed lightly over Mrs. Burton’s features as she
-replied:
-
-“All the while. You should have explained to them the necessity for
-order, cleanliness and self-restraint. Do you imagine that their pure
-little hearts would not have received it and acted upon it?”
-
-Mr. Burton offered a Yankee reply.
-
-“Do you suppose, my dear,” said he “that the necessity for all these
-virtues was never brought to their attention? Did you never hear the
-homely but significant saying, that you may lead a horse to water, but
-you can’t make him drink?”
-
-With the promptness born of true intuition, Mrs. Burton went around
-this verbal obstacle instead of attempting to reduce it.
-
-“You might at least have attempted to teach them something of the
-inner significance of things,” said Mrs. Burton. “Then they would have
-brought a truer sense to the contemplation of everything about them.”
-
-Mr. Burton gazed almost worshipfully at this noble creature whose
-impulses led her irresistibly to the discernment of the motives of
-action, and with becoming humility he asked:
-
-“Will you tell me how you would have explained the inner significance
-of dirt, so that those boys could have been trusted to cross a dry road
-without creating for themselves a halo which should be more visible
-than luminous?”
-
-“Don’t trifle about serious matters, Harry,” said Mrs. Burton, after
-a hasty but evident search for a reply. “You know that conscience and
-æsthetic sense lead to correct lives all persons who subject themselves
-to their influence, and you know that the purest natures are the most
-susceptible. If men and women, warped and mistrained though their
-earlier lives may have been, grow into sweetness and light under right
-incentives, what may not be done with those of whom it was said, ‘Of
-such is the kingdom of heaven’?”
-
-Mr. Burton instinctively bowed his head at his wife’s last words, but
-raised it speedily as the lady uttered an opinion which was probably
-suggested by the holy sentiment she had just expressed.
-
-“Then you allowed them to be dreadfully irreverent in their
-conversations about sacred things,” said she.
-
-“Really, my dear,” expostulated the victim, “you must charge up some of
-these faults to the children’s parents. I had nothing to do with the
-formation of the children’s habits, and their peculiar habit of talking
-about what you call sacred things is inherited directly from their
-parents. Their father says he doesn’t believe it was ever intended that
-mere mention of a man in the Bible should be a patent of sacredness,
-and Helen agrees with him.”
-
-[Illustration: MRS. BURTON BRUSHED A TINY CRUMB FROM HER ROBE]
-
-Mrs. Burton coughed. It is surprising what a multitude of suggestions
-can be conveyed by a gentle cough.
-
-“I suppose,” she said slowly, as if musing aloud, “that inheritance
-_is_ the method by which children obtain many objectionable qualities
-for which they themselves are blamed, poor little things. I don’t know
-how to sympathize in the least degree with this idea of Tom’s and
-Helen’s, for the Maytons, and my mother’s family, too, have always been
-extremely reverent toward sacred things. You are right in laying the
-fault to them instead of the boys, but I cannot see how they can bear
-to inflict such a habit upon innocent children and I must say that I
-can’t see how they can tolerate it in each other.”
-
-Mrs. Burton raised her napkin, and with fastidious solicitude brushed
-a tiny crumb or two from her robe as she finished this remark. Dear
-creature! She needed to display a human weakness to convince her
-husband that she was not altogether too good for earth, and this
-implication of a superiority of origin, the darling idea of every woman
-but Eve, answered the purpose. Her spouse endured the infliction as
-good husbands always do in similar cases, though he somewhat hastily
-passed his coffee-cup for more sugar, and asked, in a tone in which
-self-restraint was distinctly perceptible:
-
-“What else, my dear?”
-
-Mrs. Burton suddenly comprehended the situation; she left her chair,
-made the one atonement which is always sufficient between husband and
-wife, and said:
-
-“Only one thing, you dear old boy, and even that is a repetition, I
-suppose. It’ only this: parents are quite as remiss as loving uncles in
-training their children, instead of merely watching them. The impress
-of the older and wiser mind should be placed upon the child from the
-earliest dawn of its intelligence, so that the little one’s shall be
-determined, instead of being left to chance.”
-
-“And the impress is readily made, of course, even by a love-struck
-uncle on a short vacation?”
-
-“Certainly. Even wild animals are often tamed at sight by master-minds.”
-
-“But suppose these impressible little beings should have opinions and
-wishes and intentions of their own?”
-
-“They should be overcome by the adult mind.”
-
-“And if they object?”
-
-“That should make no difference,” said Mrs. Burton, gaining suddenly an
-inch or two in stature and queenly beauty.
-
-“Do you mean that you would really make them obey you?” asked Mr.
-Burton, with a gaze as reverent as if the answer would be by absolute
-authority.
-
-“Certainly!” replied the lady, adding a grace or two to her fully
-aroused sense of command.
-
-“By Jove!” exclaimed her husband, “what a remarkable coincidence! That
-is just what I determined upon when I first took charge of those boys.
-And yet----”
-
-“And yet you failed,” said Mrs. Burton. “How I wish I had been in your
-place!”
-
-“So do I, my dear,” said Mr. Burton; “or, at least, I would wish so if
-I didn’t realize that if you had had charge of those children instead
-of I, there wouldn’t have occurred any of the blessed accidents that
-helped to make you Mrs. Burton.”
-
-The lady smiled lovingly, but answered:
-
-“I may have the opportunity yet; in fact--oh, it’s too bad that I
-haven’t yet learned how to keep anything secret from you--I have
-arranged for just such an experiment. And I’m sure that Helen and Tom,
-as well as you, will learn that I am right.”
-
-“I suppose you will try it while I’m away on my spring trip among the
-dealers?” queried Mr. Burton hastily. “Or,” he continued, “if not, I
-know you love me well enough to give me timely notice, so I can make a
-timely excuse to get away from home. When is it to be?”
-
-Mrs. Burton replied by a look which her husband was failing to
-comprehend when there came help to him from an unexpected source.
-There were successive and violent rings of the door-bell, and as many
-tremendous pounds, apparently with a brick, at the back door. Then
-there ensued a violent slamming of doors, a trampling in the hall as of
-many war-horses, and a loud, high-pitched shout of, “I got in fyst,”
-and a louder, deeper one of “So did I!” And then, as Mr. and Mrs.
-Burton sprang from their chairs with faces full of apprehension and
-inquiry the dining-room door opened and Budge and Toddie shot in as if
-propelled from a catapult.
-
-“Hello!” exclaimed Budge, by way of greeting, as Toddie wriggled from
-his aunt’ embrace, and seized the tail of the family terrier. “What do
-you think? We’ve got a new baby, and Tod and I have come down here to
-stay for a few days; papa told us to. Don’t seem to me you had a very
-nice breakbux,” concluded Budge, after a critical survey of the table.
-
-“And it’s only jus’ about so long,” said Toddie, from whose custody
-the dog Terry had hurriedly removed his tail by the conclusive
-proceeding of conveying his whole body out of doors--“only jus’ so
-long!” repeated Toddie, placing his pudgy hands a few inches apart, and
-contracting every feature of his countenance, as if to indicate the
-extreme diminutiveness of the new heir.
-
-[Illustration: “IT’S ONLY JUS’ ABOUT SO LONG”.]
-
-Mrs. Burton kissed her nephews and her husband with more than usual
-fervor and inquired as to the sex of the new inhabitant.
-
-“Oh, that’s the nicest thing about it,” said Budge. “It’s a girl. I’m
-tired of such lots of boys--Tod is as bad as a whole lot, you know,
-when I have to take care of him. Only, now we’re bothered, ’cause we
-don’t know what to name her. Mamma told us to think of the loveliest
-thing in all the world, so I thought about squash-pie right away; but
-Tod thought of molasses candy, and then papa said neither of ’em would
-do for the name of a little girl. I don’t see that they’re not as good
-as roses and violets, and all the other things that they name little
-girls after.”
-
-During the delivery by Budge of this information, Toddie had
-been steadily exclaiming, “I--I--I--I--I--I----!” like a prudent
-parliamentarian who wants to make sure of recognition by the chair. In
-his excitement, he failed to realize for some seconds that his brother
-had concluded, but he finally exclaimed: “An’ I--I--I--I--I’m goin’
-to give her my turtle, an’ show her how to make mud pies wif currants
-in ’em.”
-
-“Huh!” said Budge, with inexpressible contempt in his tones. “Girls
-don’t like such things. I’m going to give her my blue necktie, and
-take her riding in the goat-carriage.”
-
-“Well, anyhow,” said Toddie, with the air of a man who was wresting
-victory from the jaws of defeat, “I’ll give her caterpillars. I know
-she’ll be sure to like them, ’cause they’e got lovely fur jackets all
-heavenly-green an’ red an’ brown, like ladies’s djesses.”
-
-“And you don’t know what lots of prayin’ Tod and me had to do to get
-that baby,” said Budge. “My! It just makes me ache to think about it!
-Whole days and weeks and months!”
-
-“Yesh,” said Toddie. “An’ Budgie sometimes was goin’ to stop, ’caush
-he fought the Lord was too busy to listen to us. But I just told him
-that the Lord was our biggesht papa, an’ just what papas ought to
-be, an’ papa at home was just like papas ought to be. An’ the baby
-comeded. Oh! Yesh, an’ we had to be awful good too. Why don’t you be
-real good an’ pray lots? Then maybe you’ll get a dear, sweet, little
-baby!”
-
-The temporary reappearance of the dog, Terry, put an end to the
-dispute, for both boys moved toward him, which movement soon developed
-into a lively chase. Being not unacquainted with the boys, and knowing
-their tender mercies to be much like those of the wicked, Terry sought
-and found a forest retreat and the boys came panting back and sat
-dejectedly upon the well-curb. Mrs. Burton, who stood near the window,
-leaning upon her husband’s shoulder, looked tenderly upon them, and
-murmured:
-
-“The poor little darlings are homesick already. Now is the time for my
-reign to begin. Boys!”
-
-Both boys looked up at the window. Mrs. Burton gracefully framed a
-well-posed picture of herself as she leaned upon the sill, and her
-husband hung admiringly upon her words. “Boys, come into the house, and
-let’s have a lovely talk about mamma.”
-
-“Don’t want to talk about mamma,” said Toddie, a suspicion of a snarl
-modifying his natural tones. “Wantsh the dog.”
-
-“But mammas and babies are so much nicer than dogs,” pleaded Mrs.
-Burton, after a withering glance at her husband, who had received
-Toddie’s remark with a titter.
-
-“Well, I don’t think so,” said Budge, reflectively. “We can always see
-mamma and the baby, but Terry we can only see once in a while, and he
-never wants to see us, somehow.”
-
-“My dear,” said Mr. Burton humbly, “if you care for the experience
-of another, my advice is that you let those boys come out of their
-disappointment themselves. They’ll do it in their own way in spite of
-you.”
-
-“There are experiences,” remarked Mrs. Burton, with chilling dignity,
-“which are useful only through the realization of their worthlessness.
-Anyone can let children alone. Darlings, did you ever hear the story of
-little Patty Pout?”
-
-“No,” growled Budge, in a manner that would have discouraged any one
-not conscious of having been born to rule.
-
-“Well, Patty Pout was a nice little girl,” said Mrs. Burton, “except
-that she would sulk whenever things did not happen just as she wanted
-them to. One day she had a stick of candy, and was playing ‘lose and
-find’ with it; but she happened to put it away so carefully that she
-forgot where it was, so she sat down to sulk, and suddenly there came
-up a shower and melted that stick of candy, which had been just around
-the corner all the while.”
-
-“Is Terry just around the corner?” asked Toddie, jumping up, while
-Budge suddenly scraped the dirt with the toes of his shoes and said:
-
-“If Patty’d et up her candy while she had it, she wouldn’t have had any
-trouble.”
-
-Mr. Burton hurried into the back parlor to laugh comfortably, and
-without visible disrespect, while Mrs. Burton remembered that it was
-time to ring the cook and chambermaid to breakfast. A moment or two
-later she returned to the window, but the boys were gone; so was a
-large stone jar, which was one of those family heirlooms which are
-abhorred by men but loved as dearly by women as ancestral robes or
-jewels. Mrs. Burton had that mania for making preserves which posterity
-has inflicted upon even some of the brightest and best members of the
-race, and the jar referred to had been carefully scalded that morning
-and set in the sun, preparatory to being filled with raspberry jam.
-
-“Harry,” said Mrs. Burton, “won’t you step out and get that jar for me?
-It must be dry by this time.”
-
-Mr. Burton consulted his watch, and replied:
-
-“I’ve barely time to catch the fast train to town, my dear, but the
-boys won’t fail to get back by dinner-time. Then you may be able to
-ascertain the jar’s whereabouts.”
-
-Mr. Burton hurried from the front door, and his wife made no less haste
-in the opposite direction. The boys were invisible, and a careful
-glance at the adjacent country showed no traces of them. Mrs. Burton
-called the cook and chambermaid, and the three women took, each one, a
-roadway through the lightly wooded ground near the house. Mrs. Burton
-soon recognized familiar voices, and following them to their source,
-she emerged from the wood near the rear of the boys’s own home. Going
-closer, she traced the voices to the Lawrence barn, and she appeared
-before the door of that structure to see her beloved jar in the
-middle of the floor, and full of green tomatoes, over which the boys
-were pouring the contents of bottles labeled “Mustang Liniment” and
-“Superior Carriage Varnish.” The boys became conscious of the presence
-of their aunt, and Toddie, with a smile in which confidence blended
-with the assurance of success attained, said:
-
-“We’s makin’ pickles for you, ’cause you told us a nysh little story.
-This is just the way mamma makes ’em, only we couldn’t make the stuff
-in the bottles hot.”
-
-Mrs. Burton’s readiness of expression seemed to fail her, and as she
-abruptly quitted the spot, with a hand of each nephew in her own, Budge
-indicated the nature of her feelings by exclaiming:
-
-“Ow! Aunt Alice! don’t squeeze my hand so hard!”
-
-“Boys,” said Mrs. Burton, “why did you take my jar without permission?”
-
-“What did you say?” asked Budge. “Do you mean what did we take it for?”
-
-“Certainly.”
-
-“Why, we wanted to give you a s’prise.”
-
-“You certainly succeeded,” said Mrs. Burton, without a moment’s
-hesitation.
-
-“You must give us s’prises, too,” said Toddie. “S’prises is lovaly;
-papa gives us lots of ’em. Sometimes they’s candy, but they’s nicest
-when they’s buttonanoes” (bananas).
-
-“How would you like to be shut up in a dark room all morning, to think
-about the naughty thing you’ve done?” asked Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Huh!” replied Budge. “That wouldn’t be no s’prise at all. We can do
-that any time that we do anything bad, and papa and mamma finds out.
-Why, you forgot to bring your pickles home! I don’t think you act very
-nice about presents and s’prises.”
-
-[Illustration: “WE’S MAKIN’s PICKLES FOR YOU”]
-
-Mrs. Burton did not explain nor did she spend much time in
-conversation. When she reached her own door, however, she turned and
-said:
-
-“Now, boys, you may play anywhere in the yard that you like, but you
-must not go away or come into the house until I call you, at twelve
-o’clock. I shall be very busy this morning, and must not be disturbed.
-You will try to be good boys, won’t you?”
-
-“I will,” exclaimed Toddie, turning up an honest little face for a
-kiss, and dragging his aunt down until he could put his arms about her
-and give her an affectionate hug. Budge seemed lost in meditation, but
-the sound of the closing of the door brought him back to earth; he
-threw the door open, and exclaimed:
-
-“Aunt Alice!”
-
-“What?”
-
-“Come here--I want to ask you something.”
-
-“It’s your business to come to me, Budge, if you have a favor to ask,”
-said Mrs. Burton, from the parlor.
-
-“Oh! Well, what I want to know is, how did the Lord make the first
-hornet--the very first one that ever was?”
-
-“Just the way he made everything else,” replied Mrs. Burton. “Just by
-wanting it done.”
-
-“Then did Noah save hornets in the ark?” continued Budge. “’Cause I
-don’t see how he kept ’em from stingin’ his boys and girls, and then
-gettin’ killed ’emselves.”
-
-“You ask me about it after lunch, Budge,” said Mrs. Burton, “and I
-will tell you all I can. Now run and play.”
-
-The door closed again, and Mrs. Burton, somewhat confused, but still
-resolute, seated herself at the piano for practice. She had been
-playing perhaps ten minutes, when a long-drawn sigh from some one
-not herself caused her to turn hastily and behold the boy Budge. A
-stern reproof was ready, but somehow it never reached the young man.
-Mrs. Burton afterward explained her silence by saying that Budge’s
-countenance was so utterly doleful that she was sure his active
-conscience had realized the impropriety of his affair with the jar, and
-he had come to confess.
-
-“Aunt Alice,” said Budge, “do you know I don’t think much of your
-garden? There ain’t a turtle to be found in it from one end to the
-other, and no nice grassy place to slide down like there is at our
-house.”
-
-“Can’t you understand, little boy,” replied Mrs. Burton, “that we
-arranged the house and grounds to suit ourselves, and not little boys
-who come to see us?”
-
-“Well, I don’t think that was a very nice thing to do,” said Budge. “My
-papa says we ought to care as much about pleasing other folks as we do
-for ourselves. I didn’t want to make you that jar of pickles, but Tod
-said ’twould be nice for you, so I went and did it, instead of askin’
-a man that drove past to give me a ride. That’s the way you ought to do
-about gardens.”
-
-“Suppose you run out now,” said Mrs. Burton, “I told you not to come in
-until I called you.”
-
-“But you see I came in for my top--I laid it down in the dining-room
-when I came in, and now it ain’t there at all. I’d like to know what
-you’ve done with it, and why folks can’t let little boys’s things
-alone.”
-
-“Budge,” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, turning suddenly on the piano-stool, “I
-think there’ a very cross little boy around here somewhere. Suppose I
-were to lose something?”
-
-“’Twas a three-cent top,” said Budge. “’Twasn’t only a something.”
-
-“Suppose, then, that I were to lose a top,” said Mrs. Burton, “what do
-you suppose I would do if I wanted it very much?”
-
-“You’d call the servant to find it--that’ what I want you to do now,”
-said Budge.
-
-“I shouldn’t do anything of the kind. Try to think, now, of what a
-sensible person ought to do in such a case.”
-
-Budge dejectedly traced with his toe one of the figures in the carpet,
-and seemed buried in thought; suddenly, however, his face brightened,
-and he looked up shyly and said, with an infinite scale of inflection:--
-
-“I know.”
-
-“I thought you would find out,” said Mrs. Burton, with an encouraging
-kiss and embrace, which Budge terminated quite abruptly.
-
-“One victory to report to my superior officer, the dear old humbug,”
-murmured Mrs. Burton, as she turned again to the keyboard. But before
-the lady could again put herself _en rapport_ with the composer Budge
-came flying into the room with a radiant face, and the missing top.
-
-“I told you I knew what you’d do,” said he, “an’ I just went and done
-it. I prayed about it. I went up-stairs into a chamber and shut the
-door, and knelt down an’ said, ‘Dear Lord, bless everybody, an’ don’t
-let me be bad, an’ help me to find that top again, an’ don’t let me
-have to pray for it as long as I had to pray for that baby.’s And then
-when I came down-stairs there was that top on the register, just where
-I left it. Say, Aunt Alice, I think brekbux was an awful long while
-ago. Don’t you have cakes and oranges to give to little boys?”
-
-“Children should never eat between meals,” Mrs. Burton replied. “It
-spoils their digestion and makes them cross.”
-
-“Then I guess my digestion’s spoilt already,” said Budge, “for I’m
-awful cross sometimes, an’ you can’t spoil a bad egg;--that’ what
-Mike says. So I guess I’d better have some cake; I like the kind with
-raisins an’ citron best.”
-
-“Only this once,” murmured Mrs. Burton to herself, as she led the way
-to the dining-room closet, partly for the purpose of hiding her own
-face. “And I won’t tell Harry about it,” she continued, with greater
-energy. “Here’s a little piece for Toddie, too,” said Mrs. Burton, “and
-I want you both to remember that I don’t want you to come indoors until
-you’re called.”
-
-Budge disappeared, and his aunt had an hour so peaceful that she began
-to react against it and started to call her nephews into the house.
-Budge came in hot haste in answer to her call, and volunteered the
-information that the Burton chicken-coop was much nicer than the one at
-his own house, for the latter was without means of ingress for small
-boys. Toddy, however, came with evident reluctance, and stopped _en
-route_ to sit on the grass and gyrate thereon in a very constrained
-manner.
-
-“What’s the matter, Toddie?” asked Mrs. Burton, who speedily discerned
-that the young man was ill at ease.
-
-[Illustration: “I GOT INTO A HEN’S NESHT WHERE THERE WAS SOME EGGS”]
-
-“Why,” said Toddie, “I got into a hen’ nesht where there was some eggs,
-an’ made believe I was a henny-penny that was goin’ to hatch little
-tsickens, an’ some of ’em was goin’ to be brown, an’ some white an’
-some black, an’ dey was all goin’ to be such dear little fuzzy balls,
-an’ dey was goin’ to sleep in the bed wif me every night, an’ I was
-goin’ to give one of de white ones to dat dear little baby sister,
-an’ one of ’em to you, ’cause you was sweet, too, an’ dey was all
-goin’ to have tsickens of deir own some day, an’ I sitted down in de
-nesht ever so soffaly ’cause I hasn’t got fevvers, you know, an’ when
-I got up dere wasn’t nuffin dere but a nasty muss. An’ I don’t feel
-comfitable.”
-
-Mrs. Burton grasped the situation at once, and shouted: “Toddie, sit
-down on the grass. Budge, run home and ask Maggie for a clean suit for
-Toddie. Jane, fill the bathtub.”
-
-“Don’t want to sit on the gwass,” whined Toddie. “I feels bad, an’ I
-wantsh to be loved.”
-
-“Aunty loves you very much, Toddie,” said Mrs. Burton, tenderly.
-“Doesn’t that make you happy?”
-
-“No,” exclaimed the youth with great emphasis. “Dat kind of lovin’
-don’t do no good to little boys with eggy dresses. Wantsh you to come
-out an’ sit down by me an’ love me.”
-
-Toddie’s eyes said more than his lips, so Mrs. Burton hurried out to
-him, prudently throwing a light shawl about her waist. Toddie greeted
-her with an effusiveness which was touching in more senses than one,
-as Mrs. Burton’s morning robe testified by the time Budge returned.
-Carefully enveloped in a hearth-rug, Toddie was then conveyed to the
-bathroom, and when he emerged he was so satisfied with the treatment he
-had received that he remarked:
-
-“Aunt Alice, will you give me a forough baff every day, if I try to
-hatch out little tsickens for you?”
-
-The events of the morning resulted in luncheon being an hour late,
-so Mrs. Burton was compelled to make considerable haste in preparing
-herself for a round of calls. She was too self-possessed, however, to
-forget the possible risks to which her home would be subjected during
-her absence, so she called her nephews to her and proceeded to instruct
-them in the duties and privileges of the afternoon.
-
-“Darlings,” she said, putting an arm around each boy, “Aunt Alice must
-be away this afternoon for an hour or two. I wonder who will take care
-of the house for her?”
-
-“I want to go wif you,” said Toddie, with a kiss.
-
-“I can’t take you, dear,” said the lady, after returning Toddie’s
-salute. “The walk will be too long; but auntie will come back to her
-dear little Toddie as soon as she can.”
-
-“Oh, you’re goin’ to walk to where you’ goin’, are you?” said Toddie,
-wriggling from his aunt’s arm. “Den I wouldn’t go wif you for noffin’
-in the wyld.”
-
-The pressure of Mrs. Burton’s arm relaxed, but she did not forget her
-duty.
-
-“Listen, boys,” said she. “Don’t you like to see houses neatly and
-properly arranged, like your mamma’s and mine?”
-
-“I do!” said Budge. “I always think heaven must be that way, with
-parlors an’ pictures an’ books an’ a piano. Only they don’t ever have
-to sweep in heaven, do they, ’cause there ain’t no dirt there. But I
-wonder what the Lord does to make the little angels happy when they
-want to make dirt-pies, and can’t?”
-
-“Aunt Alice will have to explain that to you when she comes back,
-Budge. But little angels never want to make mud-pies.”
-
-“Why, papa says people’s spirits don’t change when they die,” said
-Budge. “So how can little boy angels help it?”
-
-Mrs. Burton silently vowed that at a more convenient season she would
-deliver a course of systematic theology which should correct her
-brother-in-law’s loose teachings. At present, however, the sun was
-hurrying toward Asia, and she had made but little progress in securing
-insurance against accident to household goods.
-
-“You both like nicely arranged rooms,” pursued Mrs. Burton, but Toddie
-demurred.
-
-“I don’t like ’em,” said he. “They’re the kind of places where folks
-always says ‘Don’t!’s to little boysh that wantsh to have nysh times.”
-
-“But, Toddie,” reasoned Mrs. Burton, “the way to have nice times is to
-learn to enjoy what is nicest. People have been studying how to make
-homes pretty ever since the world began.”
-
-“Adam an’ Eve didn’t,” said Toddie. “Lord done it for ’em; an’ he let
-’em do just what dey wanted to. I bet little Cain an’ Abel had more fun
-than any uvver little boys dat ever was.”
-
-“Oh, no, they didn’t,” said Mrs. Burton, “because they never were in
-that lovely garden. Their parents had to think and plan a long time to
-make their home beautiful. Just think, now, how many people have had
-to plan and contrive before the world got to be as pleasant a place as
-it is now! When you look at your mamma’ parlor and mine, you see what
-thousands and millions of people have had to work to bring about.”
-
-“Gwacious!” exclaimed Toddie, his eyes opening wider and wider. “Dat’s
-wonnerful!”
-
-“Yes, and every nice person alive is doing the same now,” continued
-Mrs. Burton, greatly encouraged by the impression she had made, “and
-little boys should try to do the same. Every one should, instead of
-disturbing what is beautiful, try to enjoy it, and want to make it
-better instead of worse. Even little boys should feel that way.”
-
-“I’e goin’ to ’member that,” said Toddie, with a far-away look. “I
-fink it awful nysh for little boys to fink the same finks dat big folks
-do.”
-
-“Dear little boy,” said Mrs. Burton, arising. “Then you won’t let
-anybody disturb anything in Aunt Alice’s house, will you? You’ll take
-care of everything for her just as if you were a big man, won’t you?”
-
-“Yesh, indeedy,” said Toddie.
-
-“An’ me, too,” said Budge.
-
-“You’re two manly little fellows, and I shall have to bring you
-something real nice,” said Mrs. Burton, kissing her nephews
-good-by. “There!” she whispered to herself, as she passed out of the
-garden-gate, “I wonder what my lord and master will say of that victory
-over imperfect natures, of the sense of the fitness of things? He would
-have left the boys under the care of the servants; I am proud of having
-been able to leave them to themselves.”
-
-On her return, two hours later, Mrs. Burton was met at her front door
-by two very dirty little boys, with faces full of importance and
-expectancy.
-
-“We done just what you told us, Aunt Alice,” said Toddie. “We didn’t
-touch a thing, an’ we thought of everything we could do to make the
-world prettier. D’just come see.”
-
-With a quickened step Mrs. Burton followed her nephews into the back
-parlor. Furniture, pictures, books, and bric-a-brac were exactly as she
-left them, but some improvements had been designed and partly executed.
-A bit of wall several feet long, and bare from floor to ceiling, except
-for a single picture, had long troubled Mrs. Burton’s artistic eye, and
-she now found that tasteful minds, like great ones, think alike.
-
-“I think no room is perfect without flowers,” said Budge; “so does papa
-an’ mamma, so we thought we’d s’prise you with some.”
-
-On the floor, in a heap which was not without tasteful arrangement,
-was almost a cartload of stones disposed as a rockery, and on the top
-thereof, and working through the crevices, was a large quantity of
-street dust. From several of the crevices protruded ferns, somewhat
-wilted, and bearing evidence of having been several times disarranged
-and dropped upon the dry soil which partly covered their roots. Around
-the base was twined several yards of Virginia creeper while from the
-top sprang a well-branched specimen of the “Datura stramonium” (the
-common “stink-weed”). The three conservators of the beautiful gazed in
-silence for a moment, and then Toddie looked up with angelic expression
-and said:
-
-“Isn’t it lovaly?”
-
-[Illustration: “ISN’T IT LOVALY?”]
-
-“I hope what you brought us is real nice,” remarked Budge, “for ’twas
-awful hard work to make that rockery. I guess I never was so tired in
-all my life. Mamma’s is on a big box, but we couldn’t find any boxes
-anywhere, an’ we couldn’t find the servants to ask ’em. That ain’t
-the kind of datura that has flowers just like pretty vases, but
-papa says it’s more healthy than the tame kind. The ferns look kind
-o’s thirsty, but I couldn’t see how to water ’em without wettin’ the
-carpet, so I thought I’d wait till you came home, and ask you about it.”
-
-There was a sudden rustle of silken robes and two little boys found
-themselves alone. When, half an hour later, Mr. Burton returned from
-the city, he found his wife more reticent than he had ever known her
-to be, while two workmen with market baskets were sifting dust upon
-his hall-carpets and making a stone-heap in the gutter in front of the
-house.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II
-
-
-On the morning of the second day of Mrs. Burton’s experiment, the
-aunt of Budge and Toddie awoke with more than her usual sense of the
-responsibility and burden of life. Her husband’s description of a
-charming lot of bric-à-brac and pottery soon to be sold at auction did
-not stimulate as much inquiry as such announcements usually did, and
-Mrs. Burton’s cook did not have her usual early morning visit from her
-watchful mistress. Mrs. Burton was wondering which of her many duties
-to her nephews should be first attended to; but, as she wondered long
-without reaching any conclusion an ever-sympathizing Providence came
-to her assistance, for the children awoke and created such a hubbub
-directly over her head that she speedily determined that reproof was
-the first thing in order. Dressing hastily, she went up to the chamber
-of the innocents, and learned that the noise was occasioned by a heavy
-antique center-table, which was flying back and forth across the room,
-the motive power consisting of two pairs of sturdy little arms.
-
-“Hullo, Aunt Alice!” said Budge. “I awful glad you came in. The
-table’s a choo-choo, you know, an’ my corner’s New York an’ Tod’s is
-Hillcrest, an’ he’s ticket-agent at one place an’ I at the other. But
-the choo-choo hasn’t got any engineer, an’ we have to push it, an’ it
-isn’t fair for ticket-agents to do so much work besides their own. Now
-you can be engineer. Jump on!”
-
-The extempore locomotive was accommodatingly pushed up to Mrs. Burton
-with such force as to disturb her equilibrium, but she managed to say:
-
-“Do you do this way with your mamma’ guest-chamber furniture?”
-
-“No,” said Toddie, “’cause why, ’pare-chamber’h always lockted. B’ides
-dat, papa once tookted all de wheels off our tables--said tables wash
-too restless.”
-
-“Little boys,” said Mrs. Burton, returning the table to its place,
-“should never use things which belong to other people without asking
-permission. Nor should they ever use anything, no matter who it belongs
-to, in any way but that in which it was made to be used. Did either of
-you ever see a table on a railroad?”
-
-“’Coursh we did,” said Toddie, promptly; “dere’s a tyne-table at
-Hillcrest, an’annuvver at Dzersey City. How could choo-choos turn
-around if dere wasn’t?”
-
-“It’s time to dress for breakfast now,” said Mrs. Burton in some
-confusion, as she departed.
-
-The children appeared promptly at the table on the ringing of the bell
-and brought ravenous appetites with them. Mrs. Burton composed a solemn
-face, rapped on the table with the handle of the carving-knife, and all
-heads were bowed while the host and hostess silently returned thanks.
-When the adults raised their heads they saw that two juvenile faces
-were still closely hidden in two pairs of small hands. Mrs. Burton
-reverently nodded at each one to attract her husband’ attention, and
-mentally determined that souls so absorbed in thanksgiving were good
-ground for better spiritual seed than their parents had ever scattered.
-Slowly, however, twice ten little fingers separated, and very large
-eyes peeped inquiringly between them; then Budge suddenly dropped his
-hands, straightened himself in his chair, and said:
-
-“Why, Uncle Harry! Have you been forgettin’ again how to ask a
-blessin’?”
-
-And Toddie, looking somewhat complainingly at his uncle, and very
-hungrily at the steak, remarked:
-
-“Said my blessin’ ’bout fifty timesh.”
-
-“Once would have been sufficient, Toddie,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Why didn’t you say yoursh once, den?” asked Toddie.
-
-“I did. We don’t need to talk aloud to have the Lord hear us,”
-explained Mrs. Burton.
-
-“’Posin’ you don’t,” said Toddie, “I don’t fink it’s a very nysh way
-to do, to whisper fings to de Lord. When I whisper anyfing mamma says,
-‘Toddie, what’s you whisperin’ for? You ’shamed of somefing?’s Guesh
-you an’ Uncle Harry’s bofe ’shamed at de same time.”
-
-Mr. Burton desired to give his wife a pertinent hint yet dared not
-while two such vigilant pairs of ears were present. A happy thought
-struck him and he said in very bad German:
-
-“Is it not time for the reformation to begin?”
-
-And Mrs. Burton answered:--
-
-“It soon will be.”
-
-“That’s awful funny talk,” said Budge. “I wish I could talk that way.
-That’s just the way ragged, dirty men talk to my papa sometimes, and
-then he gives ’em lots of pennies. When was you an’ Aunt Alice ragged
-an’ dirty, so as to learn to talk that way?”
-
-“Budge, Budge!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton. “Thousands of very rich and
-handsome people talk that way--all German people do.”
-
-“Do they talk to the Lord so?” asked Budge.
-
-“Certainly,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Gracious!” exclaimed the young man. “He must be awful smart to
-understand them.”
-
-Mr. Burton repeated his question in German, but Mrs. Burton kept silent
-and looked extremely serious, with a ghost of a frown.
-
-“What are you boys and your auntie going to do with yourselves to-day?”
-asked Mr. Burton, anxious to clear away the cloud of reticence which,
-since the night before, had been marring his matrimonial sky.
-
-“I guess,” said Budge, looking out through the window, “it’s going to
-rain; so the best thing will be for Aunt Alice to tell us stories all
-day long. We never do get enough stories.”
-
-“Just the thing!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, her face coming from behind
-the clouds, and with more than its usual radiance.
-
-“Hazh you got plenty of stories in your ’tomach?” asked Toddie, poising
-his fork in air, regardless of the gravy which trickled down upon his
-hand from the fragment of meat at the end.
-
-[Illustration: “RAGGED, DIRTY MEN TALK TO MY PAPA SOMETIMES”]
-
-“Dozens of them,” said Mrs. Burton. “I listened to stories in
-Sunday-school for about ten years, and I’ve never had anybody to tell
-them to.”
-
-“I don’t think much of Sunday-school stories,” said Budge, with the
-air of a man indulging in an unsatisfactory retrospect. “There’s
-always somethin’ at the end of ’em that spoils all the good taste of
-’em--somethin’ about bein’ good little boys.”
-
-“Aunt Alice’s stories haven’t any such endings,” said Mr. Burton, with
-a sneaking desire to commit his wife to a policy of simple amusement.
-“She knows that little boys want to be good, and she wants to see them
-happy, too.”
-
-“Aunt Alice will tell you only what you will enjoy, Budge--she promises
-you that,” said Mrs. Burton. “We will send Uncle Harry away right after
-breakfast and then you shall have all the stories you want.”
-
-“And cake, too?” asked Toddie. “Mamma always gives us cakesh when she’s
-tellin’ us stories, so we’ll sit still an’ not wriggle about.”
-
-“No cakes,” said Mrs. Burton, kindly but firmly. “Eating between meals
-spoils the digestion of little boys, and makes them very cross.”
-
-“I guess that’s what was the matter with Terry yesterday, then,”
-said Budge. “He was eatin’ a bone between meals, out in the garden
-yesterday afternoon, and when I took hold of his back legs and tried to
-play that he was a wheelbarrow, he bit me.”
-
-Mr. Burton gave the dog Terry a sympathetic pat and a bit of meat,
-making him stand on his hind legs and beg for the latter, to the great
-diversion of the children. Then, with an affectionate kiss and a look
-of tender solicitude he wished his wife a happy day and hurried off to
-the city. Mrs. Burton took the children into the library and picked up
-a Bible.
-
-“What sort of story would you like first?” she asked, as she slowly
-turned the leaves.
-
-“One ’bout Abraham, ’cause he ’most killed somebody,” said Toddie,
-eagerly.
-
-“Oh, no,” said Budge; “one about Jesus, because He was always good to
-everybody.”
-
-“Dear child,” exclaimed Mrs. Burton. “Goodness always makes people
-nice, doesn’t it?”
-
-“Yes,” said Budge; “’cept when they talk about it to little boys. Say,
-Aunt Alice, what makes good folks always die?”
-
-“Because the Lord needs them, I suppose, Budge.”
-
-“Then don’t he need me?” asked Budge, with a pathetic look of inquiry.
-
-“Certainly, dear,” said Mrs. Burton; “but he wants you to make other
-people happy first. A great many good people are left in the world for
-the same reason.”
-
-“Then why couldn’t Jesus be left?” said Budge. “He could make people
-happier than every one else put together.”
-
-“You’ll understand why, when you grow older,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“I wish I’d hurry up about it and grow, then,” said Budge. “Why can’t
-little boys grow just like little flowers do?--just be put in the
-ground an’ watered and hoed? Our ’paragus grows half-a-foot in a day
-almost.”
-
-“You’s a dyty boy to want to be put in de dyte, Budgie,” said Toddie,
-“an’ I isn’t goin’ to play wif you any more. Mamma says I mustn’t
-play wif dyty little boys.”
-
-“Dirty boy yourself!” retorted Budge. “You like to play in the dirt,
-only you cry whenever anybody comes with water to put on you. Say, Aunt
-Alice, how long does people have to stay in the ground when they die
-before they go to heaven?”
-
-“Three days, I suppose, Budge,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“An’ does everybody that the Lord loves go up to heaven?”
-
-“Yes, dear.”
-
-“Well, papa says some folks believe that dead people never go to
-heaven.”
-
-“Never mind what they believe, Budge. You should believe what you are
-taught,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“But I’d like to know for sure.”
-
-“So you will, some day.”
-
-“I wish ’twould be pretty quick about it, then,” said Budge. “Now tell
-us a story.”
-
-Mrs. Burton drew the children nearer her as she reopened the Bible,
-when she discovered, to her surprise, that Toddie was crying.
-
-“I hazhn’t talked a bit for ever so long!” he exclaimed, in a high,
-pathetic tremolo.
-
-“What do you want to say, Toddie?” asked Mrs. Burton.
-
-“I know all ’bout burying folks--that’ what,” said Toddie. “Mamma
-tolded me all ’bout it one time, she did. An’ yeshterday me and Budgie
-had a funelal all by ourselves. We found a dear little dead byde. An’
-we w’apped it up in a piesh of paper, ’cause a baking-powder box wazn’t
-bid enough for a coffin, an’ we dugged a little grave, an’ we knelted
-down an’ said a little prayer, an’ ashked de Lord to take it up to
-hebben, an’ den we put dyte in the grave an’ planted little flowers
-all over it. Dat’s what.”
-
-“Yes, an’ we put a little stone at the head of the grave, too, just
-like big dead folks,” said Budge. “We couldn’t find one with any
-writin’ on it, but I went home and got a picture-book an’ cut out a
-little picture of a bird, an’ stuck it on the stone with some tar that
-I picked out of the groceryman’ wagon-wheel, so that when the angel
-that takes spirits to heaven comes along, it can see there’s a dead
-little birdie there waitin’ for him.”
-
-“Yesh,” added Toddie, “an’ little bydie ishn’t like us. ’Twon’t have
-to wunner how it’ll feel to hazh wings when it gets to be a angel,
-’cause ’twas all used to wings ’fore it died.”
-
-“Birds don’t go----” began Mrs. Burton, intending to correct the
-children’s views as to the future state of the animal kingdom, when
-there flashed through her mind some of the wonderings of her own
-girlish days, and the inability of her riper experience to answer them,
-so she again postponed, and with a renewed sense of its vastness, the
-duty of reforming the opinions of her nephews on things celestial. At
-about the same time her cook sought an interview, and complained of
-the absence of two of the silver tablespoons. Mrs. Burton went into
-the mingled despondency, suspicion and anger which is the frequent
-condition of all American women who are unfortunate enough to have
-servants.
-
-[Illustration: “YES, AN’ WE PUT A LITTLE STONE AT THE HEAD OF THE
-GRAVE”]
-
-“Where is the chambermaid?” she asked.
-
-“An’ ye’s needn’t be a-suspectin’ av her,” said the cook. “It’s them
-av yer own family that I’m thinkin’ hez tuk ’em.” And the cook glared
-suggestively upon the boys. Mrs. Burton accepted the hint.
-
-“Boys, have either of you taken any of auntie’s spoons for anything?”
-
-“No,” answered Toddie, promptly; and Budge looked very saintly and shy,
-as if he knew something that, through delicacy of feeling and not fear,
-he shrank from telling.
-
-“What is it, Budge?” asked Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Why, you see,” said Budge, in the sweetest of tones, “we wanted
-somethin’ yesterday to dig the grave of the birdie with, an’ we
-couldn’t think of anything else so nice as spoons. There was plenty of
-ugly old iron ones lyin’ around, but birdies are so sweet an’ nice
-that I wouldn’t have none of ’em. An’ the dinner-dishes was all lyin’
-there with the big silver spoons on top of ’em, so I just got two of
-’em--they wasn’t washed yet, but we washed ’em real clean so’s to be
-real nice about everythin’, so that if the little birdie’ spirit was
-lookin’ at us it wouldn’t be disgusted.”
-
-“And where are the spoons now?” demanded Mrs. Burton, oblivious to all
-the witchery of the child’s spirit and appearance.
-
-“I dunno,” said Budge, becoming an ordinary boy in an instant.
-
-“I doeszh,” said Toddie--“I put ’em somewherezh, so when we wanted to
-play housh nexsht time we wouldn’t have to make b’lieve little sticks
-was spoons.”
-
-“Show me immediately where they are,” commanded Mrs. Burton, rising
-from her chair.
-
-“Den will you lend ’em to us nexsht time we playzh housh?” asked Toddie.
-
-“No,” said Mrs. Burton, with cruel emphasis.
-
-Toddie pouted, rubbed his knuckles into his eyes, and led the way
-to the rear of the garden where, in a hollow at the base of an old
-apple-tree, were the missing spoons. Wondering whether other valuable
-property might not be there, Mrs. Burton cautiously and with a stick
-examined the remaining contents of the hole, and soon discovered one of
-her damask napkins.
-
-“Datsh goin’ to be our table-cloff,” explained Toddie, “an’
-dat”--this, as an unopened pot of French mustard was unearthed “is
-pizzyves” (preserves).
-
-Mrs. Burton placed her property in the pocket of her apron, led her two
-nephews into the house, seated them with violence upon a sofa, closed
-the doors noisily, drew a chair close to the prisoners, and said:
-
-“Now, boys, you are to be punished for taking auntie’s things out of
-the house without permission.”
-
-“Don’t want to be shpynkted!” screamed Toddie, in a tone which
-seemed an attempt at a musical duet by a saw-filer and an ungreased
-wagon-wheel.
-
-“You’re not to be whipped,” continued Mrs. Burton, “but you must learn
-not to touch things without permission. I think that to go without your
-dinners would help you to remember that what you have done is naughty.”
-
-“Izhe ’most ’tarved to deff,” exclaimed Toddie, bursting out crying.
-(N.B. Breakfast has been finished but a scant hour.)
-
-“Then I will put you into an empty room, and keep you there until you
-are sure you can remember.”
-
-Toddie shrieked as if enduring the thousand tortures of the Chinese
-executioner, and Budge looked as unhappy as if he were a young man in
-love and in the throes of reluctant poesy, but Mrs. Burton led them
-both to the attic, and into an empty room, placed chairs in two corners
-and a boy in each chair, and said:
-
-“Don’t either of you move out of a chair. Just sit still and think how
-naughty you’ve been. In an hour or two I’ll come back, and see if you
-think you can be good boys here-after.”
-
-[Illustration: “DON’T EITHER OF YOU MOVE OUT OF A CHAIR”.]
-
-As Mrs. Burton left the room, she was followed by a shriek that seemed
-to pierce the walls and be heard over half the earth. Turning hastily,
-she saw that Toddie, from whom it had proceeded, had neither fallen out
-of his chair, nor been seized by an epileptic fit, nor stung by some
-venomous insect; so she closed the door, locked it, softly placed a
-chair against it, sat down softly and listened. There was silence after
-the several minutes required by Toddie to weary of his crying, and
-then Mrs. Burton heard the following conversation:
-
-“Tod?”
-
-“What?”
-
-“We ought to do something!”
-
-“Chop Aunt Alish into little shnipsh of bitsh--datsh what I fink would
-be nysh.”
-
-“That would be dreadful naughty,” said Budge, “after we’ve bothered her
-so! We ought to do something good, just like big folks when they’ve
-been bad.”
-
-“What doezh big folks do?”
-
-“Well, they read the Bible an’ go to church. But you an’ me can’t go
-to church, ’cause ’tain’t Sunday, an’ we ain’t got no Bible, an’ we
-wouldn’t know how to read it if we had.”
-
-“Den don’t letsh do noffin’ but be awful mad,” said the unrepentant
-Toddie. “I’ll tell you what we can do. Let’s do like dat Maggydalen dat
-mamma’s got a picture of, and dat was bad an’ got sorry; letsh look
-awful doleful and cwosh. See me.”
-
-Toddie apparently gave an illustration of what he thought the proper
-penitential countenance and attitude, for Budge exclaimed:
-
-“I don’t think that would look nice at all. It makes you look like a
-dead puppy-dog with his head turned to one side. I’ll tell you what;
-we can’t read Bibles like big folks, but we can tell stories out of the
-Bible, an’ that’ bein’ just as good as if we read ’em.”
-
-“Oh, yes,” said Toddie, repenting at once. “Letsh! I wantsh to be good
-just awful.”
-
-“Well, what shall we tell about?” asked Budge.
-
-“’Bout when Jesus was a little boy,” said Toddie, “for he was awful
-good.”
-
-“No,” said Budge; “we’ve been naughty, an’ we must tell about somebody
-that was awful naughty. I think old Pharaoh’s about the thing.”
-
-“Aw right,” said Toddie. “Tell us ’bout him.”
-
-“Well, once there was a bad old king down in Egypt, that had all the
-Izzyrelites there an’ made ’em work, an’ when they didn’t work he
-had ’em banged. But that dear little bit of a Moses, that lived in a
-basket in the river, grew up to be a man, an’ he just killed one of
-Pharaoh’s bad bangers, an’ then he skooted an’ hid. An’ the Lord saw
-that he was the kind of man that was good for somethin’, so he told him
-he wanted him to make Pharaoh let the poor Izzyrelites go where they
-wanted to. So Moses went and told Pharaoh. An’ Pharaoh said, ’No, you
-don’t!’s Then Moses went an’ told the Lord, an’ the Lord got angry,
-and turned all the water in the river into blood.”
-
-“My!” said Toddie. “Then if anybody wanted to look all bluggy, all he
-had to do was to go in bavin’, wasn’t it?”
-
-“But he wouldn’t let ’em go then,” continued Budge. “So the Lord made
-frogs hop out of all the rivers an’ mud-puddles everywhere, and they
-went into all the houses an’ folks couldn’t keep ’em out.”
-
-“I just wis mamma an’ me’d been in Egypt, den,” said Toddie. “Den she
-couldn’t make me leave my hop-toads out of doors, if de Lord wanted ’em
-to stay in de house. I loves hop-toads. I fwallowed one de uvver day,
-an’ it went way down my ’tomach.”
-
-“Didn’t it kick inside of you?” asked Budge, with natural interest.
-
-“No-o!” said Toddie. “I bited him in two fyst. But he growed togvver
-ag’in, an’dzust hopped right out froo de top of my head.”
-
-“Let’s see the hole he came out of?” said Budge, starting across the
-floor.
-
-“It all growded up again right away,” said Toddie, in haste, “an’
-you’s a bad boy to get out of your chair when Aunt Alice told you not
-to, and you’s got to tell annuvver story ’bout naughty folks to pay for
-it. Gwon!”
-
-Budge returned to his chair, and continued:
-
-“An’ old Pharaoh went down to Moses’s house an’ said, ‘Ask the Lord
-to make the frogs hop away, an’ you can have your old Izzyrelites--I
-don’t want ’em.’ So the Lord done it, an’ all the glad old Pharaoh
-was, was only ’cause he got rid of ’em; an’ he kept the Izzyrelites
-some more. Then the Lord thought he’d fix ’em sure, so he turned all
-the dirt into nasty bugs.”
-
-“What did little boys do den, dat wanted dyte to make mud-pies of?”
-asked Toddie.
-
-“Well, the bugs was only made out of dry dirt,” exclaimed Budge; “just
-dust like we kick up in the street, you know.”
-
-“Oh,” said Toddie. “I wonder if any of dem bugs was ’tato-bugs?”
-
-“I dunno, but some of ’em was the kind that mammas catch with fine
-combs after their little boys have been playin’ with dirty children.
-An’ Pharaoh’s smart men, that thought they could do everythin’, found
-they couldn’t make them bugs.”
-
-“Why-y-y,” drawled Toddie, “did Pharaoh want some more of ’em?”
-
-“No, I s’pose not, but he stayed bad, so he had to catch it again.
-The Lord sent whole swarms of flies to Egypt, an’ there wasn’t any
-mosquito-nets in that country either. An’ then Pharaoh got good again,
-an’ the Lord took the flies away, an Pharaoh got bad again, so the
-Lord made all the horses an’ cows awful sick, an’ they all died.”
-
-“Then couldn’t Pharaoh go out ridin’ at all?”
-
-“No. He had to walk, even if he wanted to get to the depot in an awful
-hurry. An’ it made him so mad that he said the Izzyrelites shouldn’t
-go anyhow. So Moses took a handful of ashes an’ threw it up in the air
-before Pharaoh, an’ everybody in all Egypt got sore with boils right
-away.”
-
-“Ow!” said Toddie, “I had some nashty boils oncesh, but I didn’t know
-ashes made ’em. I’ll ’member that.”
-
-“An’ Pharaoh said ‘no!’again, so he got some more bothers. The Lord
-made great big lumps of ice tumble down out of heaven, an’ he made
-the thunder go bang, an’ the lightnin’ ran around the ground like
-our fizzers did last Fourth of July, an’ it spoiled all the growing
-things.”
-
-“Strawberries?” queried Toddie.
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“An’ dear little panzhies?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Poo’s old Pharo’! Gwon.”
-
-[Illustration: “--BUT I DIDN’T KNOW ASHES MADE ’EM”]
-
-“Then Pharaoh’s friends began to tell him he was bein’ a goose,
-thinkin’ he could be stronger than the Lord, an’ Pharaoh kind
-o’ thought so himself. So he told Moses that the men-folks of the
-Izzyrelites might go away if they wanted to, but nobody else.”
-
-“Mean old fing! Who did he fink was goin’ to cook fings--an’ go to
-school?”
-
-“I dunno, but I guess he had a chance to think about it, for the Lord
-made whole crowds of locusts come. Them’s grasshoppers, you know, an’
-they ate up everythin’ in all the gardens, an’ the folks got half
-crazy about it.”
-
-“Den I guesh dey didn’t tell their little boysh that they mushn’t kill
-gwasshoppers, like mamma doesh. Wish I’d been dere! What did he do den?”
-
-“Oh, he was a selfish old pig, just like he was before, so the Lord
-said, ‘Moses, just hold your hand up to the sky a minute.’ An’ Moses
-did it, and then it got darker in Egypt than it is in our coal-bin.
-Folks couldn’t see anythin’ anywhere, an’ wherever they was when it
-growed dark, they had to stay for three whole days an’ nights.”
-
-“Gwacious!” Toddie exclaimed. “Wouldn’t it be drefful if Moses was to
-go an’ hold his hand up in the sky while we’s a-sittin’ in dezhe
-chairzh? Mebbe he will! Let’s holler for Aunt Alish!”
-
-“Oh, he can’t do it now, ’cause he’s dead. Besides that, we ain’t
-keepin’ any Izzyrelites from doin’ what they want to. Old Pharaoh
-got awful frightened then, an’ told Moses he might take all the people
-away, but they mustn’t take their things with ’em--the selfish old
-fellow! But Moses knew how hard the poor Izzyrelites had to work for
-the few things they had, so he said they wouldn’t go unless they could
-carry everythin’ they owned. An’ that made Pharaoh mad, an’ he said,
-‘Get out! If I catch you here again I’ll kill you!’s An’ Moses said,
-‘Don’t trouble yourself; you won’t see me again unless you want me.’”
-
-“Shouldn’t fink he would,” said Toddie. “Nobody’s goin’ to vizhit
-kings dzust to have deir heads cutted off. Even our shickens knows
-enough not to come to Mike when he wants to cut deir heads off. Gwon!”
-
-“Well, then the Lord told Moses somethin’ that must have made him feel
-awful. He told him that next night every biggest boy in every family
-was goin’ to be killed by an angel. Ain’t I glad I didn’t live there
-then! I’d like to see an angel, but not if that’s what he wants to do
-with me. What would you do if an angel was to kill me, Tod?”
-
-“I’d have all your marbles,” Toddie answered, promptly, “and the
-goat-cawwiage would be all mine. Gwon!”
-
-“Well, the Lord told Moses about it, an’ Moses told the folks; an’
-he told ’em all to kill a little lamb, an’ dip their fingers in the
-blood, an’ make a cross on their door-posts, so when the angel came
-along an’ saw it he wouldn’t kill the biggest boy in their houses.
-An’ that night down came the angel, an’ everybody woke up an’ cried
-awful--worse than you did when you fell down-stairs the other day,
-because all the biggest died. You couldn’t go anywhere without hearin’
-papas an’ mammas cryin’.”
-
-“Did dey all have funerals den?”
-
-“Of course.”
-
-“Gwacious! Den the little ’Gyptian boys dat didn’t get killed could
-look at deaders all day long! What did Pharo’s do ’bout it den?”
-
-“He sent right after Moses an’ his brother, in a hurry, an’ he
-told ’em that he’d been a bad king--just as if they didn’t know that
-already! An’ he told ’em to take all the Izzyrelites, an’ all their
-things, an’ go right straight away--he was in such a hurry that he
-didn’t even invite Moses to the funeral, though he had a dead biggest
-boy himself. An’ all the Egyptian people came too, and begged the
-Izzyrelites to hurry an’ go--they didn’t see what they was waitin’
-for. They was so glad to get rid of ’em that they lent ’em anything
-they wanted.”
-
-“Pies an’ cakes?”
-
-“No!” said Budge, contemptuously. “You don’t s’pose folks that’s
-goin’ off travelin’ for forty years is goin’ to think ’bout eatin’
-first thing, do you? They borrowed clothes, an’ money, an’ everything
-else they could get, an’ left the Egyptians awful poor. An’ off they
-started.”
-
-“Did they have a ’cursion train?”
-
-“No! All the excursion trains in the world couldn’t have held such lots
-of people. They rode on camels and donkeys, but lots of ’em walked.”
-
-“I don’t think that was a bit of fun.”
-
-“You would have,” said Budge, “if you’d always had to work like
-everything. Don’t you ’member how once when mamma made you work, an’
-carry away all the blocks you brought up on the piazza from the new
-buildin’? You walked ’way off to the village to get rid of it.”
-
-“Ye--es,” drawled Toddie, “but I knew I’d be rided back when dey came
-to look for me. Den what did they do?”
-
-“They started to travel to a nice country that the Lord had told Moses
-about, an’ they got along till they came to a pretty big ocean where
-there wasn’t any ferry-boats. I don’t see what Moses took ’em to
-such a place as that for, unless the Lord wanted to show ’em that no
-ferry-boats could get the best of Him, when all of a sudden they saw an
-awful lot of dust bein’ kicked up behind ’em, an’ somebody said that
-Pharaoh was a-comin’.”
-
-“Should fink he’d seen ’nough of ’em,” said Toddie. “Did he come down
-to the boat to wave his hanafitch good-by at ’em?”
-
-“No, he knew there wasn’t any boats there, an’ so he came to take ’em
-back again an’ make ’em work some more.”
-
-“Should fink he’d be afraid de Lord would kill him next.”
-
-“P’r’aps he did; but then, you see, he was awful lazy, an’ didn’t like
-to work for himself; papa says there’s lots of folks that would rather
-be killed than do any work.”
-
-“Den what d’s de lazy folks do? They can’t catch any Izzyrelites, can
-they?”
-
-“No,” said Budge, “but they can do what the Izzyrelites done
-themselves--they borrow other people’s money. Well, when the folks saw
-that ’twas Pharaoh a-comin’, they began to grunt, an pitch into poor
-Moses, an’ told him he ought to be ashamed of hisself to bring ’em
-away off there to be killed, when they might have died in Egypt without
-havin’ to walk so far. But Moses said: ‘Shut your mouth, will you?
-The Lord’s doin’ this job.’ Then the Lord said: ‘Moses, lift up your
-cane an’ point across the water with it!’s An’ the minute Moses done
-that, the water of that ocean went way up on one side, and way up on
-the other side--just like it does in the bathtub sometimes when we’re
-splashin’, you know--and there was a path right through the bottom of
-that ocean. An’ the people just skooted right along it!”
-
-[Illustration: “SPLASHIN’ IN THE BATHTUB”]
-
-“Did they put on their rubbers fyst? ’Cause if they didn’t there must
-have been lots of little boys spanked when they got across for gettin’
-their shoes muddy.”
-
-“I don’t know about that,” said Budge, after a slight pause for
-reflection. “I must ’member to ask papa about that. But when they all
-got over they began to grumble some more, for along came Pharaoh’s army
-right after ’em.”
-
-“I fink they was a lot of good-for-nothing cry-babies,” Toddie
-exclaimed.
-
-“Huh!” grunted Budge. “I guess you’d have yowled if you’d have been
-trudgin’ along through the mud ever so long, an’ then seen some
-soldiers an’ chariots an’ spears an’ bows an’ arrows comin’ to kill
-you. But the Lord knew just how to manage. He always did. Papa says He
-always comes in when you think He can’t. He said to Moses, ‘Lift up
-your cane an’ point it across the ocean again.’s An’ Moses done it,
-an’ down came that big fence of water on both sides kerswosh! An’ it
-drownded old Pharaoh an’ the whole good-for-nothin’ lot.”
-
-“Then did the Izzyrelites go to cryin’ some more?”
-
-“Not much! They all got together an’ had a big sing.”
-
-“I know what they sung,” said Toddie. “They all sung
-‘TurnbackPharo’army-hallelujah.’”
-
-“No, they didn’t,” said Budge. “They sung that splendid thing mamma
-sings sometimes, ‘Sound the--loud tim--brel o’er--Egypt’--Egypt’
-dark----’”
-
-Budge had with great difficulty repeated the line of the glorious old
-anthem, then he broke down and burst out crying.
-
-“What’s you cryin’ about?” asked Toddie. “Is you playin’ you’s an
-Izzyrelite?”
-
-“No,” said Budge; “but whenever I think about that song, somethin’
-comes up in my throat and makes me cry.”
-
-The door of the room flew open, there was a rustle and a hurried tread,
-and Mrs. Burton, her face full of tears, snatched Budge to her breast,
-and kissed him repeatedly, while Toddie remarked:
-
-“When fings come up in my froat I just fwallows ’em.”
-
-Mrs. Burton conducted her nephews to the parlor floor, and said:
-
-“Now, little boys, it’s nearly lunch time, and I am going to have you
-nicely washed and dressed, so that if any one comes in you will look
-like little gentlemen.”
-
-“Ain’t we to be punished any more for bein’ bad?” asked Budge.
-
-“No,” said Mrs. Burton, kindly; “I’m going to trust you to remember and
-be good.”
-
-“That isn’t what bothers me,” said Budge; “I told a great, long Bible
-story to Tod up-stairs, so’s to be like big folks when they get bad, as
-much as I could. But Tod didn’t tell any; I don’t think he’s got his
-punish.”
-
-“He may tell his to-night, after Uncle Harry gets home,” said Mrs.
-Burton.
-
-“An’ sit in a chair in the corner of the up-stairs room?” asked Budge.
-
-“I hardly think that will be necessary this time,” answered the lady.
-
-“Then I don’t think you punish fair a bit,” said Budge, with an
-aggrieved pout.
-
-“I’ll be dzust as sad as I can ’bout it, Budgie,” said Toddie, with a
-brotherly kiss.
-
-The boys were led off by the chambermaid to be dressed and Mrs.
-Burton seated herself and devoted herself to earnest thought. Time
-was flying, her husband had been between dark and breakfast-time most
-exasperatingly solicitous as to the success of his wife’s theories of
-government, and not even her genius of self-defense had prevailed
-against him. She felt that so far she had been steadily vanquished. Her
-husband had told her in other days that it was always so with the best
-generals in their first engagements, so she determined that if men had
-snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, she should be able to do so
-as well. Her desperation at the thought of a long lifetime of “I told
-you so’” from her husband made her determine that no discomfort should
-prevent the most earnest endeavor for success.
-
-The luncheon bell aroused her from what had become a reverie in the
-valley of humiliation, and she found awaiting her at the table her
-nephews--Budge in a jaunty sailor-suit and Toddie in a clean dress and
-an immaculate white apron. An old experience caused her to promptly end
-some researches of Toddie’, instituted to discover whether his aunt’
-dishes were really “turtle-pyates,” and an attempt by Budge to drop
-oysters in the mouth of the dog Terry, as he had seen his uncle do with
-bread-crusts in the morning, was forcibly brought to a close. Beyond
-the efforts alluded to, the children did nothing worse than people in
-good society often do at table. After luncheon, Mrs. Burton said:
-
-“Now, boys, this is Aunt Alice’s receptionday. I will probably
-have several calls, and every one will want to know about that dear
-little new baby, and you must be there to tell them. So you must keep
-yourselves very neat and clean. I know you wouldn’t like to see any
-dirty people in my parlor!”
-
-“Hatesh to shtay in parlors,” said Toddie. “Wantsh to go and get some
-jacks” (“Jack-in-the-pulpit”--a swamp plant).
-
-“Not to-day,” said Mrs. Burton, kindly, but firmly. “No one with nice
-white aprons ever goes for jacks. What would you think if you saw me in
-a swampy, muddy place, with a nice white apron on, hunting for jacks!”
-
-“Why, I’d fink you could bring home more’n me, ’cause your apron would
-hold the mosht,” Toddie replied.
-
-“I’ll tell you what,” said Budge, calling Toddie into a corner and
-whispering earnestly to him. The purity of Budge’s expression of
-countenance and the tender shyness with which he avoided her gaze when
-he noticed that it was upon him, caused Mrs. Burton to instinctively
-turn her head away, out of respect for what she believed to be a
-childish secret of some very tender order. Glancing at the couple
-again for only a second, she saw that Toddie, too, seemed rather
-less matter-of-fact than usual. Finally both boys started out of the
-doorway, Budge turning and remarking with inflections simply angelic:
-
-“Will be back pretty soon, Aunt Alice.”
-
-Mrs. Burton proceeded to dress; she idly touched her piano, until one
-lady after another called, and occupied her time. Suddenly, while
-trying to form a good impression on a very dignified lady of the
-old school, both boys marched into the parlor from the dining-room.
-Mrs. Burton motioned them violently away, for Budge’s trousers and
-Toddie’ apron were as dirty as they well could be. Neither boy saw the
-visitor, however, for she was hidden by one of the wings which held the
-folding-doors, so both tramped up to their aunt, while Budge exclaimed:
-
-“Folks don’t go to heaven the second day, anyhow, for we just dug up
-the bird to see, an’ he was there just the same.”
-
-“And dere wazh lots of little ants dere wiv him,” said Toddie. “Is dat
-’cause dey want to got to hebben, too, an’ wantsh somebody wif wings
-to help ’em up?”
-
-“Budge!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, in chilling tones; “how did all this
-dirt come on your clothes?”
-
-“Why, you see,” said the boy, edging up confidentially to his aunt,
-and resting his elbows on her knee as he looked up into her face, “I
-couldn’t bear to put the dear little birdie in the ground again without
-sayin’ another little prayer. And I forgot to brush my knees off.”
-
-“Toddie,” said Mrs. Burton, “you couldn’t have knelt down with your
-stomach and breast. How did you get your nice white apron so dirty?”
-
-Toddie looked at the apron and then at his aunt--looked at a picture
-or two, and then at the piano--followed the cornice-line with his eye,
-seemed suddenly to find what he was looking for, and replied:
-
-“Do you fink dat apron’s dyty? Well, I don’t. Tell you watsh de matter
-wif it--I fink de white’s gropped off.”
-
-“Go into the kitchen!” Mrs. Burton commanded, and both boys departed
-with heavy pouts where pretty lips should have been. Half an hour
-later their uncle, who had come home early with the laudable desire of
-meeting some of his wife’s acquaintances, found his nephew Toddy upon
-the scaffolding of an unfinished residence half-way between his own
-residence and the railway station. Remembering the story, dear to
-all makers of school reading-books, of the boy whose sailor father saw
-him perched upon the mainyard, Mr. Burton stood beneath the scaffolding
-and shouted to Toddie:
-
-[Illustration: “JUMP!” SHOUTED MR. BURTON]
-
-“Jump!”
-
-“I can’t,” screamed Toddie.
-
-“Jump!” shouted Mr. Burton, with increased energy.
-
-“Tell you I can’t,” repeated Toddie. “Wezh playin’ Tower of Babel,
-an’ hazh had our talks made different like de folks did den, an’ when
-I tells Budge to bring buicksh, he only buingzh mortar, an’ when I
-wantsh mortar he buings buicksh. An’ den we talksh like you an’ Aunt
-Alice did yestuday at de table.”
-
-“Yes,” said Budge, appearing from the inside of the building with
-an armful of blocks. “Just listen.” And the young man chattered for
-a moment or two in a dialect never even dimly hinted at except by a
-convention of monkeys.
-
-Mr. Burton cautiously climbed the ladder, brought down one boy at a
-time, kissed them both and shook them soundly, after which the three
-wended homeward, the boys having sawdust on every portion of their
-clothes not already soiled by dirt, and most of Mrs. Burton’s callers
-meeting the party _en route_.
-
-Mr. Burton found his wife brilliantly conversational, yet averse to
-talking about her nephews. The exercise which they had been compelled
-to take in their emulation of the architects of the incomplete building
-on the plain of Shinar gave them excellent appetites and silenced
-tongues; but after his capacity had been tested to the uttermost Budge
-said:
-
-“It’s time for Tod to do his punishment now, Aunt Alice. Don’t you
-know?”
-
-Mrs. Burton winked at her husband, and nodded approvingly to Budge.
-
-“Come, Tod,” said Budge, “you must tell your awful sad story now, an’
-feel bad.”
-
-“Guesh I’ll tell ’bout Peter Gray,” said Toddie; “thatsh awful sad.”
-
-“Who was Peter Gray?” asked Mrs. Burton.
-
-“He’s a dzentleman dat a dyty little boy in the nexsht street to us
-sings ’bout,” said Toddie, “only I don’t sing ’bout him--I only tellsh
-it. It’s dzust as sad that-a-way.”
-
-“Go on,” said Budge.
-
-“Once was a man,” said Toddie, with great solemnity, “an’ his name was
-Peter Gray. An’ he loved a lady. An’ he says to her papa, ‘I wantsh
-to marry your little gyle.’ An’ what you fink dat papa said? He said,
-‘No!’” (this with great emphasis). “That izhn’t as hard as he said it,
-eiver, but it’s azh hard as I can say it. It’s puffikly dzedful when
-Jimmy sings it. An’ Peter Gray felt awful bad den, an’ he went out
-Wesht, to buy de shkinzh dat comes off of animals an’ fings, dough
-how dat made him feel nicer Jimmy don’t sing ’bout. An’ bad Injuns
-caught him an’ pulled his hair off, djust like ladies pull deirsh off
-sometimezh. An’ when dat lady heard ’bout it, it made her feel so bad
-dat she went to bed an’ died. Datsh all. Uncle Harry, ain’t you got to
-be punished for somefin’, so you can tell ush a story?”
-
-“It’s time little boys were in bed now,” said Mrs. Burton, arising and
-taking Toddie in her arms.
-
-“Oh, dear!” said Budge. “I wish I was a little boy in China, an’ just
-gettin’ up.”
-
-“So does I,” said Toddie; “’cause den you would have a tay-al on your
-head an’ I could pull it!”
-
-The boys retired, and Mrs. Burton broke her reticence so far as to tell
-her husband the story she had heard in the morning, and to insist that
-he was to arise early enough in the morning to unearth the buried bird
-and throw it away.
-
-“It’s perfectly dreadful,” said she, “that those children should be
-encouraged in making trifling applications of great truths, and I am
-determined, as far as possible, to prevent the effects by removing the
-causes.”
-
-And her husband put on an exasperating smile and shook his head
-profoundly.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III
-
-
-The sun of the next morning arose at the outrageously unfashionable
-hour that he affects in June, but Mrs. Burton was up before him.
-Her husband had attended a town meeting the night before, and the
-forefathers of the hamlet had been so voluble that Mr. Burton had not
-returned home until nearly midnight. He needed rest, and his wife
-determined that he should sleep as long as possible; but there were
-things dearer to her than even the comfort of her husband, and among
-these were the traditions she had received concerning things mystical.
-She had an intuition that her nephews would examine the grave of the
-bird they had interred two days before, and she dreaded to listen to
-the literal conversation and comments that would surely follow. Had
-the bird been a human being, the remarks of its tender-hearted little
-friends would have seemed anything but materialistic to Mrs. Burton;
-but it was only a bird, and the lady realized that to answer questions
-as to the soullessness of an innocent being and the comparative value
-of characterless men and women was going to be no easy task.
-
-She therefore perfected a plan which should be fair to all concerned;
-she would arouse her husband only when she heard her nephews moving;
-then she would engage the young men in conversation while her husband
-desecrated the grave. She would have saved considerable trouble by
-locking the young men in their chamber and allowing her husband to
-slumber content, but having failed to remove the key on the advent of
-the boys they had found use for it themselves, and no questioning had
-been able to discover its whereabouts. Meanwhile the boys were quiet,
-and Mrs. Burton devoted the peaceful moments to laying out the day in
-such a manner as to have the least possible trouble from her nephews.
-
-A violent kicking at the front door and some vigorous rings of the bell
-aroused the lady from her meditation and her husband from his dreams,
-while the dog Terry, who usually slept on the inner mat at the front
-door, began to howl piteously.
-
-“Goodness!” growled Mr. Burton, rubbing his eyes, as his wife pulled
-the bell-cord leading to the servants’s room. “To whom do we owe
-money?”
-
-“Oh, I’m afraid Helen is worse, or the baby is poorly!” exclaimed Mrs.
-Burton, opening the chamber-window, and shouting, “Who is there?”
-
-“Me,” answered a voice easily recognizable as that of Budge.
-
-“Me, too!” screamed a thinner but equally familiar voice.
-
-“We’ve got somethin’ awful lovely to tell you, Aunt Alice,” shouted
-Budge. “Let us in, quick!”
-
-“Lovelier dan cake or pie or candy!” screamed Toddie.
-
-One of the servants hurried down the stairs, the door opened, light
-footsteps hurried up the steps, and the dog Terry, pausing for no
-morning caress from his master, hurried under the bed for refuge, from
-which locality he expressed his apprehension in a dismal falsetto.
-Then, with a tramp which only children can execute, and which horses
-cannot approach in noisiness, came Budge and Toddie. Arrived at their
-aunt’s chamber-door, each boy tried to push the other away, that he
-might himself tell the story of which both were full. At last, from the
-outer side of the door:
-
-“Dear little bydie’s gone to hebben.”
-
-“Yes,” said Budge, “the angels took him away.”
-
-“An’ de little ants all went to hebben wif him,” said Toddie.
-
-“Only the angels didn’t take the gravestone, too,” said Budge. “Say,
-Aunt Alice, what’s the use of gravestones after folks is gone to
-heaven?”
-
-“I know,” said Toddie. “I fought everybody knowed dat; it’s so’s folks
-know where to plant lovely flowers for deir angel what was in the grave
-to look down at.”
-
-“Now,” said Budge, with the air of a champion of a newly discovered
-doctrine, “I’m just goin’ to ask papa who the folks are that don’t
-believe deaders go to heaven. I’ll jist tell ’em what geese they are.”
-
-“Angels is dzust like birdies, isn’t they, Aunt Alice?” Toddie asked.
-“’Cause dey’ got winghs an’ clawshes, too.”
-
-“How do you know they have claws?” asked Mr. Burton.
-
-“’Cause I saw deir scratch-holes in the dyte at the grave,” said
-Toddie. “Dey was dzust little bits of scratchy cracks like little
-bydies make. I guesh dey was little baby-angels.”
-
-Mr. Burton winked at his wife, who was looking greatly mystified, and
-he uttered the single monosyllable:
-
-“Cats.”
-
-“How did you get out of the house, children?” Mr. Burton asked.
-
-“Jumped out of one of the kitchen windows,” said Budge. “But it was
-so high from the ground that we couldn’t get in again that way. And I
-think it’s breakfast-time; we’ve been up ’bout two hours.”
-
-“Now’s the time for orthodox teaching, my dear,” suggested Mr. Burton.
-“Physiologists say that the mind is more active when the stomach’s
-empty.”
-
-[Illustration: “CATS,” UTTERED MR. BURTON]
-
-“Thank you,” said Mrs. Burton, starting for the kitchen, “but the minds
-of those boys are too active, even on full stomachs.”
-
-Breakfast was on the table in due time, and the boys showed
-appreciation of it. After they were partly satisfied, however, Budge
-asked:
-
-“Aunt Alice, how much longer do you suppose we can live without seeing
-that dear little sister?”
-
-“Dear little girl sister,” said Toddie, by way of correction.
-
-“Oh, quite a while,” Mrs. Burton replied. “I know you love it and your
-mamma too much to make either of them any trouble, and both of them are
-quite feeble yet. You love them better than you love yourself, don’t
-you?”
-
-“Certainly,” said Budge. “That’s why I want to see ’em so awful much.”
-
-“I fink it’s awful mean for little sishterzh not to have deir budders
-to play wif,” said Toddie.
-
-“Well, I will think about it, and if you will both be very good, we
-will go there to-day.”
-
-“Oh!” said Budge. “We’ll be our very goodest. I’ll tell you what, Tod;
-we’ll have a Sunday-school right after breakbux; that’ll be good.”
-
-“I know something gooder dan that,” said Toddie. “We’ll play Daniel in
-de lions’s den, and you be de king an’ take me out. Dat’ a good deal
-gooder dan dzust playin’ Sunday-school; ’caush takin’ folks away from
-awful bitey lions is a gooder fing dan dzust singin’ an’ prayin’, like
-they do in Sunday-school.”
-
-“Another frightful fit of heterodoxy to be overcome, my dear,” observed
-Mr. Burton. “That dreadful child is committed to the doctrine of the
-superior efficacy of works over faith.”
-
-“I shall tell him the story of Daniel correctly,” said Mrs. Burton,
-“and error will be sure to fly from the appearance of truth.”
-
-Mr. Burton took his departure for the day, and while his wife busied
-herself in household management, the children discussed the etiquette
-of the promised visit.
-
-“Tell you what, Tod,” said Budge, “we ought to take her presents,
-anyhow. That was one of the lovaly things about Jesus being a little
-baby once. You know those shepherds came an’ brought him lots of
-presents.”
-
-“What letsh take her?” asked Toddie.
-
-“Well,” said Budge, “the shepherds carried money and things that
-smelled sweet, so I guess that’s what we ought to do.”
-
-“Aw wight,” said Toddie. “’Cept, houzh we goin’ to get ’em?”
-
-“We can go into the house very softly when we get home, you know,” said
-Budge, “an’ shake some pennies out of our savings-bank; them’ll do for
-the money. Then for things that smell sweet we can get flowers out of
-the garden.”
-
-“Dat’ll be dzust a-givin’ her fings that’s at home already. I fink
-’twould be nicer to carry her somefin’ from here, just as if we was
-comin’ from where we took care of de sheep.”
-
-“Tell you what,” said Budge. “Let’ tease Aunt Alice for pennies. We
-ought to have thought about it before Uncle Harry went away.”
-
-“Oh, yes!” said Toddie. “An’ dere’s a bottle of smelly stuff in Aunt
-Alice’s room; we’ll get some of dat. Shall we ask her for it, or dzust
-make b’lieve it’s ours?”
-
-“Let’s be honest ’bout it,” said Budge. “It’s wicked to hook things.”
-
-“’Twouldn’t be hookin’ if we took it for dat lovaly little sister
-baby, would it?” asked Toddie. “’Sides, I want to s’prise Aunt Alice
-an’ everybody wif de lots of presentsh I makesh to de dear little
-fing.”
-
-“Oh! I’ll tell you what,” said Budge, forgetting the presents entirely
-in his rapture over a new idea. “You know how bright the point of the
-new lightning-rod on our house is? Well, we’ll make b’lieve that’s
-the star in the East, an’ it’s showin’ us where to come to find the
-baby.”
-
-“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Toddie. “An’ maybe Aunt Alice’ll carry us on
-her back, and then we’ll make b’lieve we’re ridin’ camels, like
-the shepherds in the picture we had Christmas, an’ tore up to make
-menageries of.”
-
-The appearance of a large grasshopper directly in front of the boys
-ended the conversation temporarily, for both started in chase of it.
-
-[Illustration: BOTH STARTED IN CHASE OF IT]
-
-Half an hour later both boys straggled into the house, panting and
-dusty, and flung themselves upon the floor, when their aunt, with that
-weakness peculiar to the woman who is not also a mother, asked them
-where they had been, why they were out of breath, how they came by so
-much dust on their clothes, and why they were so cross. Budge replied,
-with a heavy sigh:
-
-“Big folks don’t know much about little folks’s troubles.”
-
-“Bad old hoppergrass, just kept a-goin’ wherever he wanted to, an’
-never comed under my hat,” complained Toddie.
-
-“Perhaps he knew it would not be best for you to have him, Toddie,”
-said Mrs. Burton. “What would you have done with him if you had
-succeeded in catching him?”
-
-“Tookted his hind hoppers off,” said Toddie, promptly.
-
-“How dreadful!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton. “What would you have done that
-for?”
-
-“So’s he’d fly,” said Toddie. “The idea of anybody wif wings goin’
-awound on their hoppersh! How’d you like it if I had wings, an’ only
-trotted and jumped instead of flied?”
-
-“My dear little boy,” said Mrs. Burton, taking her nephew on her lap,
-“you must know that it’s very wrong to hurt animals in that way. They
-are just as the Lord made them, and just as he wants them to be.”
-
-“All animals?” asked Toddie.
-
-“Certainly,” answered Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Then what for doesh you catch pitty little mices in traps an’ kill
-’em?”
-
-Mrs. Burton hastened to give the conversation a new direction.
-
-“Because they’re very troublesome,” she said. “And even troublesome
-people have to be punished when they meddle with other people’s things.”
-
-“We know that, I guess,” interposed Budge, with a sigh.
-
-“But,” said Mrs. Burton, hurrying forward to her point, “the animals
-have nerves and flesh and blood and bones, just like little boys do,
-and are just the way the Lord made them.”
-
-“I’ll look for the hoppergrass’s blood next time I pull one’s legsh
-off,” said Toddie.
-
-“Don’t,” said Mrs. Burton. “You must believe what aunty tells you, and
-you mustn’t trouble the poor things at all. Why, Toddie, there are real
-smart men, real good men that everybody respects, that have spent their
-whole lives in study of insects, like grasshoppers, and flies, and
-bees----”
-
-“An’ never got stung?” asked Toddie. “How did dey do it?”
-
-“They don’t care if they are stung,” said Mrs. Burton. “They are deeply
-interested in learning how animals are made. They study all kinds
-of animals, and try to find out why they are different from people;
-and they find out that some wee things, like grasshoppers, are more
-wonderful than any person that ever lived!”
-
-“I should think so,” said Budge. “If I could hop like a grasshopper,
-I could jump faster than any boy in the kindergarten, an’ if I could
-sting like a hornet, I could wallop any boy in town.”
-
-“Does they adzamine big animals, too?” asked Toddie.
-
-“Yes,” said Mrs. Burton. “One of them has been away out West among the
-dreadful Indians, just to find out what horses were like a good many
-years ago.”
-
-“If I find out all ’bout horsesh,” said Toddie, “will everybody like
-me?”
-
-“Very likely,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Then I’m goin’ to,” said Toddie, sliding out of his aunt’s lap.
-
-“Never mind about it now, dear,” said Mrs. Burton. “We are going to see
-mamma and baby now. Go and dress yourselves neatly, boys.”
-
-Both children started, and Mrs. Burton, who was already prepared for
-her trip, opened a novel, first giving herself credit for having turned
-at least one perverted faculty of Toddie’s into its heaven-ordained
-channel.
-
-“Another triumph to report to my husband,” said she, with a fine air
-of exultation, as she opened her novel. “And yet,” she continued,
-absent-mindedly, laying the book down again, “I believe I have found no
-occasion on which to report yesterday’s victories!”
-
-The boys were slow to appear; but when they came down-stairs they
-presented so creditable an appearance as to call for a special
-compliment from their aunt. On their way to their mamma’s house they
-seemed preoccupied, and they sought frequent occasions to whisper to
-each other.
-
-Arrived at home, their impatience knew no restraint; and when the nurse
-appeared with a wee bundle, topped with a little face, and lying on a
-big pillow, both boys pounced upon it at once, Budge trying to crowd
-several pennies into the baby’s rose-leaves of hands, while Toddie held
-to its nose a bottle labeled “Liquid Bluing.” At the same time the
-baby sneezed alarmingly and a strong odor of camphor pervaded the room.
-
-“Where can that camphor be?” asked the nurse. “There is nothing that
-Mrs. Lawrence hates so intensely!”
-
-The baby stopped sneezing and began a pitiful wail, while Toddie
-hastened to pick up the bluing-bottle; then the nurse saw that upon
-the baby’s hitherto immaculate wraps there was a large stain of a
-light-blue tint and emitting a strong odor of camphor. Meanwhile,
-Toddie had dragged upon his aunt’s sack, held his precious bottle up to
-his aunt’s nose, and exclaimed:
-
-“Izhn’t dat too baddy! Baby gropped it, and spilled mosht every bit of
-it on her c’ozhes an’ on de floor!”
-
-“Where did you get that camphor, Toddie?” asked Mrs. Burton, “and why
-did you bring it here?”
-
-“Tizhn’t campiffer,” said Toddie. “It’ pyfume; I got it out of a big
-bottle on your bureau, where you makes your hankafusses smell sweet
-at. Budgie an’ me done dzust what dem sheepmen did when dey came to
-Beflehem to see de dear little Jesus-baby: we brought our baby money
-an’ fings dat smelled sweet.”
-
-Mrs. Burton kissed Toddie; then the nurse fell on the floor and
-displayed the baby’s face, and then the face was shadowed from the
-light, and baby opened two little eyes and regarded her brothers with
-a stare of queenly gravity and gentleness, and the adoration expressed
-by the faces of the two boys was such as no old master ever put into
-the faces in an “Adoration of the Magi,” and above them bent a face
-more mature but none the less suffused with tender awe. The silence
-seemed too holy and delightful to be broken, but Toddie soon looked up
-inquiringly into his aunt’s face and asked:
-
-“Aunt Alice, why don’t dere be a lovely sun around her head like dere
-is in pictures of dear little Jesus-babies?”
-
-The quartet became human again, and the nurse offered each of the party
-a five-minute interview with the mother. Mrs. Burton emerged from the
-sick-chamber with a face which her nephews could not help scrutinizing
-curiously; Budge came out with the remark that he would never worry his
-sweet mamma again while he lived, but Toddie exclaimed:
-
-“If I had a little new baby I wouldn’t stay in bed in dark roomsh all
-day long. I dzust get up an’ dansh awound.”
-
-“Aunt Alice,” asked Budge, on the way back to his uncle’s residence,
-“now there’ somebody else at our house to have a birthday, isn’t there?
-When will baby sister’ birthday come--how many days?”
-
-“About three hundred and sixty,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Goodness!” exclaimed Budge. “And how long ’fore Christmas’ll come
-again?”
-
-“Nearly two hundred days.”
-
-“Well, I think I will die if somebody don’t have a birthday pretty
-soon, so I can give ’em presents.”
-
-“Why, you dear, generous little fellow,” said Mrs. Burton, stooping to
-kiss him, “my own birthday will come to-morrow.”
-
-“Oh--h--h--h!” exclaimed Budge. “Say Toddie----” The remainder of
-the conversation was conducted in whispers and with countenances of
-extreme importance. The boys even took a different road for home, Budge
-explaining to his aunt that they had a big secret to talk about.
-
-Mrs. Burton stopped _en route_ to ask a neighborly question or two,
-and arrived at home somewhat later than her nephews. She saw a horse
-and wagon at the door, and rightly imagined that they belonged to the
-grocer. But what a certain white mass on the ground under the horse
-could consist of Mrs. Burton was at a loss to conjecture, and she
-quickened her pace only to find the white substance aforesaid resolve
-itself into the neatly clothed body of her nephew, Toddie, who was
-lying on his back in the dirt, and contemplating the noble animal’s
-chest with serene curiosity.
-
-There are moments in life when dignity unbends in spite of itself, and
-grace of deportment becomes a thing to be loathed. Such a moment Mrs.
-Burton endured, as, dropping her parasol, she cautiously but firmly
-seized Toddie and snatched him from his dangerous position.
-
-“Go into the house, this instant, you dirty boy!” said she, with an
-imperious stamp of her foot.
-
-The fear in Toddie’s countenance gave place to expostulation, as he
-exclaimed:
-
-“I was only dzust----”
-
-“Go into the house this instant!” repeated Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Ah--h--h--h!” said Toddie, beginning to cry, and rolling out his under
-lip as freely as if there were yards of it yet to come. “I was only
-studyin’ how the horsie was made togevver, so’s everybody’d espec’s
-an’ love me. Can’t go to where dem Injuns is, so I fought a gushaway’s
-[grocery] man’ horsie would be dzust as good. Ah--h--h!”
-
-“There was no necessity for your lying on the ground, in your clean
-piqué dress, to do it,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Ah--h--h!” said Toddie again. “I studied all de west of him fyst, an’
-I couldn’t hold him up so as to look under him. I tried to, an’ he
-looked at me dweadful cwosh, an’ so I didn’t.”
-
-“Go into the house and have another dress put on,” said Mrs. Burton.
-“You know very well that nothing excuses little boys for dirtying their
-clothes when they can help it. When your Uncle Harry comes home we
-shall have to devise some way of punishing you so that you may remember
-to take better care of your clothing in the future.”
-
-“Ah--h--h--h--! I hope de Lord won’t make any more horsesh, den, nor
-any little boys to be told to find out about ’em, an’ be punnissed
-dzust for gettin’ deir c’oshes a little dyty!” screamed Toddie,
-disappearing through the doorway and filling the house with angry
-screams.
-
-Mrs. Burton lingered for a moment upon the piazza steps, and bravely
-endured a spasm of sense. There forced itself upon her mind the idea
-that it might be possible that the soiling of garments was not the
-sin of all sins, and that Toddie had really been affected by her
-information about the noble origin and nature of the animal physique.
-Certainly nothing but a sincere passion for investigation could have
-led Toddie between the feet of a horse, and a person so absorbed in
-scientific pursuits might possibly be excused for being regardless of
-personal appearance. But clean clothing ranked next to clean hearts in
-the Mayton family, and such acquirements as Mrs. Burton possessed she
-determined to lovingly transmit to her nephews, so far as was in her
-power. Toddie seemed in earnest in his indignation, and she respected
-mistaken impressions which were honestly made, so she determined to try
-to console the weeping child. Going into his room, she found her nephew
-lying on his back, kicking, screaming, and otherwise giving vent to his
-rage.
-
-“Toddie,” said Mrs. Burton, “it is too bad that you should have so much
-trouble just after you have been to see your mamma and little sister.”
-
-“I know it!” screamed Toddie, “an’ you can dzust go down-stairs again
-if dat’s all you came to tell me.”
-
-“But, Toddie, dear,” said Mrs. Burton, kneeling and smoothing the hot
-forehead of her nephew, “aunty wants to see you feeling comfortable
-again.”
-
-“Den put me back under the horsie again, so folksh’ll ’espec’s me,”
-sobbed Toddie.
-
-“You’ve learned enough about the horse for to-day,” said Mrs. Burton.
-“I’ll ask your papa to teach you more when you go back home. Poor
-little boy, how hot your cheeks are! Aunt Alice wishes she could see
-you looking happy again.”
-
-Toddie stopped crying for a moment, looked at his aunt intently, sat
-up, put on an air of importance, and said:
-
-“Did de Lord send you up-stairsh to tell me you was sorry for what you
-done to me?” asked Toddie. “Den I forgives you, only don’t do dat baddy
-way any more. If you want to put a clean dwess on me, you can.”
-
-“Aunt Alice,” said Budge, who had sauntered into the room, “you told
-Uncle Harry at the breakbux table that you was goin’ to tell us about
-Daniel to-day. Don’t you think it’s about time to do it?”
-
-“Oh, yes,” said Toddie, hurrying his head into his clean dress, “an’
-how de lions et up de bad men dat made de king frow Daniel in de deep
-dark hole. Gwon.”
-
-“There was a very good young man whose name was Daniel,” said Mrs.
-Burton, “and although the king made a law that nobody should pray
-except to the gods that his people worshiped, Daniel prayed every day
-to the same Lord that we love.”
-
-“He was up in heaven then, like he is now, wasn’t he?” said Budge.
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Then where was the other people’s god?”
-
-“Oh, on shelves and in closets, and all sorts of places,” said Mrs.
-Burton. “They were only bits of wood and stone; idols, in fact.”
-
-“And wasn’t they good?”
-
-“Not at all.”
-
-“Well, I don’t think that’s very nice, for papa sometimes says that I
-am mamma’ idol. Am I sticky or stony?”
-
-“Certainly not, dear. He means that your mother cares a great deal for
-you; that is all. And Daniel prayed just as he chose and when he chose,
-and the people that didn’t like him hurried up the king and said, ‘Just
-see, that young man for whom you care so much is praying to the Lord
-that the Jews believe in.’s The king was sorry to hear this, but Daniel
-wouldn’t tell a lie; he admitted that he prayed just as he wanted to,
-so the king had to order some men to throw Daniel into the den of
-lions. He felt very badly about it, for Daniel had been always very
-good and honest, and very good people are hard to find anywhere.”
-
-“Musht tell mamma dat, nexsht time she saysh I must be very good,” said
-Toddie. “Gwon.”
-
-“They threw poor Daniel in among the lions, and he must have felt
-dreadful on the way to the den, for he knew that lions are very savage
-and hungry. Why, one single lion will often eat up a whole man, yet
-there were a great many lions in the den Daniel was taken to.”
-
-“He wouldn’t make much of a supper for all of them, poor fellow, would
-he?” Budge asked.
-
-[Illustration: “TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT IT”]
-
-“No,” said Mrs. Burton, “so he did what sensible people always do
-when they find themselves in trouble. He prayed. As for the king, I
-imagine he didn’t sleep much that night. People who take the advice of
-others and against their own better judgment, generally have to feel
-uncomfortable about it. At any rate, the king was awake very early next
-morning, and hurried off to the den alone, and looked in, and shouted,
-‘Daniel! the Lord that you believe in, was he strong enough to keep the
-lions from eating you?’ And then Daniel answered the king--think of how
-happy it must have made the king to hear his voice, and know he was
-not dead! The unkindness of the king had not made Daniel forget to be
-respectful, so he said, ‘Oh, king, I hope you may live for ever.’s Then
-he told the king that he had not been hurt at all, and the king was
-very glad, and he had Daniel taken out, and then the bad men who had
-been the cause of Daniel being given to the lions were all thrown into
-the den themselves, and the lions ate every one of them.”
-
-“I know why they let Daniel alone an’ ate up all the other fellows,”
-said Budge, with an air of comprehension.
-
-“I felt sure you would, dear little boy,” said Mrs. Burton; “but you
-may tell me what you think about it.”
-
-“Why, you see,” said Budge, “Daniel was only one man, and he would be
-only a speck apiece for all those lions--just like one single bite of
-cake to a little boy. When there were plenty of men, so that each
-lion could have one for himself, they made up their minds it was
-dinner-time, an’ so they went to work.”
-
-Somehow this reply caused Mrs. Burton to forget to enforce the great
-moral application of the story of Daniel, and she found it convenient
-to make a sudden tour of inspection in the kitchen. She was growing
-desperately conscious that, instead of instructing and controlling the
-children, she had thus far done little but supply material for their
-active minds and bodies to employ in manners extremely distasteful to
-her. More than once she found her mind wavering between two extremes of
-the theories of government--it seemed to her that she must either be
-very severe, or must allow the children to naturally develop their own
-faculties, within reasonable bounds. At the first she rebelled, partly
-because she was not cruel by nature, as severe rulers of children
-often are, and partly because the children were not her own. The other
-extreme was equally distasteful, however. Were not children always made
-to mind in well-regulated families? To be sure, they seldom in such
-cases fulfilled, in adult years, the promise of their youth, but that,
-of course, was their own fault--whose else could it be? Should adults,
-should she, whose will had never been brooked by parent or husband,
-set aside her own inclinations for the sake of a couple of unformed,
-unreasoning minds?
-
-Like most other people in doubt, Mrs. Burton did nothing for a few
-hours and succeeded thereby in entirely losing sight of her nephews
-until nearly sunset, when, drawn by that instinct which is strongest
-in the most immature natures, the boys returned for something to eat.
-Though quiet, there could be no doubt about their contentment; their
-clothes were very dirty, and so were their faces, but out of the latter
-shone that indefinable something that is the easily read indication of
-the consciousness of rectitude and satisfaction with the results of
-right-doing. They were not communicative, even under much questioning,
-and Mr. Burton finally said, as one in a soliloquy:
-
-“I wonder what it was?”
-
-“What are you talking about, Harry?” asked Mrs. Burton.
-
-“I am merely wondering what original and expensive experiment they’ve
-been up to now,” replied the head of the household.
-
-“None whatever,” said Mrs. Burton, with an energy almost startling. “I
-often wonder how men can be so blind. Look at their dear, pure little
-faces, dirty though they are; there’s no more consciousness of wrong
-there than there could be in an angel’s face.”
-
-“Just so, my dear,” said Mr. Burton. “If they were oftener conscious of
-misdeeds they would be worse boys, but a great deal less troublesome.
-Come see uncle, boys--don’t you want a trot on my knees?”
-
-Both children scrambled into their uncle’ arms, and Budge began to
-whisper very earnestly.
-
-“Yes, I suppose so,” Mr. Burton answered.
-
-“Goody, goody, goody!” exclaimed Budge, clapping his hands. “I’m going
-to give you a birthday present to-morrow, Aunt Alice.”
-
-“So am I,” said Toddie.
-
-“It’s something to eat,” said Budge.
-
-“Mine, too,” said Toddie.
-
-“Be careful, Budge,” said Mr. Burton. “You’ll let the secret out if
-you’re not careful.”
-
-“Oh, no, I won’t. I only said ’twas something to eat. But say, Aunt
-Alice, how do bananas grow?” [said] Toddie, with brightening eyes and a
-confident shake of his curly head.
-
-“And I know,” said Mr. Burton, lifting Toddie suddenly from his knee,
-“that either a certain little boy is breaking to pieces and spilling
-badly, or something else is. What’ this?” he continued, noticing a very
-wet spot on Toddie’s apron, just under which his pocket was. “And”
-(here he opened Toddie’ pocket and looked into it) “what is that vile
-muss in your pocket?”
-
-Toddie’s eyes opened in wonder, and then his countenance fell.
-
-“’Twash only a little bunch,” said he, “an’ I was goin’ to eat it on
-de way home, but I forgotted it!”
-
-“They’re white grapes, my dear,” said Mr. Burton. “The boys have been
-robbing somebody’s hothouse; Tom has no grapes in his. Where did you
-get these, boys?”
-
-“Sh--h--h!” whispered Toddie, impressively. “Nobody musht never tell
-secretsh.”
-
-“Where did you get those grapes?” demanded Mrs. Burton, hastening to
-the examination of the dripping dress.
-
-Toddie burst into tears.
-
-“I should think you would cry!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton; “after stealing
-people’ fruit.”
-
-“Isn’t cryin’ ’bout dat,” sobbed Toddie. “I’ze cryin’ ’caush youze
-a-spoilin’ my s’prise for your bifeday ev’ry minute you’ a-talkin’!”
-
-“Alice, Alice!” said Mr. Burton, softly. “Remember that the poor child
-is not old enough to have learned what stealing means.”
-
-“Then he shall learn now!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, all of her righteous
-sense upon the alert. “What do you suppose would become of you if you
-were to die to-night?”
-
-“Won’t die!” sobbed Toddie. “If angel comes to kill me like he did the
-’Gyptians, I’ll hide.”
-
-“No one could hide from the angel of the Lord,” said Mrs. Burton,
-determined that fear should do what reason could not.
-
-“Why, he doesn’t carry no lanternzh wif him in de night-time, does he?”
-said Toddie.
-
-Mr. Burton laughed but his wife silenced him with a glance and answered:
-
-“He can see well enough to find bad little boys when he wants them.”
-
-“Ain’t bad,” screamed Toddie, “an’ I won’t give you de uvver grapes
-now, dat we brought home in a flower-pot.”
-
-“Come to uncle, old boy,” said Mr. Burton, taking the doleful child
-upon his knee again, and caressing him tenderly. “Tell uncle all about
-it, and he’ll see if you can’t be set all right.”
-
-“An’ not let de killey angel come catch me?” asked Toddie.
-
-[Illustration: “WE GOT THREE OR FOUR NICE BUNCHES”]
-
-“I’ll tell you, Uncle Harry,” said Budge. “We was goin’ to give Aunt
-Alice fruit for her birthday--me bananas an’ Tod white grapes. We
-didn’t know where any bananas growed, but Mr. Bushman, way off along
-the mountain, has got lots of lovely grapes in his greenhouse, ’cause
-we went there once with papa, and they talked ’bout grapes an’ things
-’most all afternoon, an’ he told him to come help himself whenever
-he wanted any. So we made up a great secret, an’ we went up there
-this afternoon to ask him to give us some for our aunt, ’cause ’twas
-goin’ to be her birthday. But he wasn’t home, and the greenhouse man
-wasn’t there either; but the door was open, an’ we went in an’ saw
-the grapes, an’ we made up our minds that he wouldn’t care if we took
-some, ’cause he told papa to. So we got three or four nice bunches, and
-put ’em in a flower-pot with leaves in it, and each of us got a little
-bunch to eat ourselves; but we found lots of wild strawberries on the
-way back, so Tod forgot his grapes, I guess, but mine’s safe in my
-stomach. An’ ’twas awful hot an’ dusty, an’ I never got so tired in
-my life. But we wanted to make Aunt Alice happy, so we didn’t care.”
-
-“An’ then she said we was fiefs!” sobbed Toddie. “Bad old fing!”
-
-“Never mind, Toddie,” said Mrs. Burton, all her moral purpose taking
-flight as she kissed the tear-stained, dirty little cheeks, and carried
-her nephew to the dinner-table.
-
-[Illustration: “SO I PUTTED CROSSES ON THE DOOR”]
-
-Toddie’s meal was quickly dispatched. He seemed preoccupied, and
-hurried away from the table, though he was quite ready to go to bed
-when summoned by his aunt. Half an hour later Mr. Burton, sauntering
-out to the piazza to smoke, saw a large, rude cross, in red ink,
-on either side of the door-frame. Even men have weaknesses, and a
-fastidiousness about the appearance of his house was one of Mr.
-Burton’. He dashed up the stairs, three steps at a time, and burst into
-his nephew’s room, exclaiming:
-
-“Who daubed the door with ink?”
-
-“Me,” said Toddie, boldly. “I was afraid you’d forget to tell dat
-killey angel I wasn’t any fief, so I putted crosses on de door, like de
-Izzyrelites did, so he would go a-past. He wouldn’t know de ink wasn’t
-blood, I guess, in de night-time.”
-
-Toddie suddenly found himself alone again.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV
-
-
-Mrs. Burton’s birthday dawned brightly, and it is not surprising that
-as it was her first natal anniversary since her marriage to a man who
-had no intention or ability to cease being a lover, her ante-breakfast
-moments were too fully and happily occupied to allow her to even
-think of two little boys who had already impressed upon her their
-willingness and general ability to think for themselves. As for the
-boys themselves, they woke with the lark, and with a heavy sense of
-responsibility also. The room of Mrs. Burton’s chambermaid joined their
-own, and the occupant of that room having been charged by her mistress
-with the general care of the boys between dark and daylight, she had
-grown accustomed to wake at the first sound in the boys’s room. On the
-morning of her mistress’s birthday the first sound she heard was:
-
-“Tod?”
-
-No response could be heard; but a moment later the chambermaid heard:
-
-“T--o--o--od!”
-
-“Ah--h--h--ow!” drawled a voice, not so sleepily but it could sound
-aggrieved.
-
-“Wake up, dear old Toddie budder. It’ Aunt Alice’s birthday now.”
-
-“Needn’t bweak my earzh open, if ’tis,” whined Toddie.
-
-“I only holloed in one ear, Tod,” remonstrated Budge, “an’ you ought
-to love dear Aunt Alice enough to have that hurt a little rather than
-not wake up.”
-
-A series of groans, snarls, whines, grunts, snorts, and remonstrances
-semi-articulate were heard, and at length some complicated wriggles and
-convulsive kicks were made manifest to the listening ear, and Budge
-said:
-
-“That’s right! Now let’s get up an’ get ready. Say; do you know
-that we didn’t think anything about having some music? Don’t you
-remember how papa played the piano last mamma’s birthday when she came
-down-stairs, an’ how happy it made her, an’ we danced around?”
-
-“Aw wight,” said Toddie. “Let’.”
-
-“Tell you what,” said Budge. “Let’ both bang the piano, like mamma an’
-Aunt Alice does together sometimes.”
-
-“Oh, yesh!” Toddie exclaimed. “We can make some awful big bangsh
-before she can get down to tell us to don’t.”
-
-Then there was heard a scurrying of light feet as the boys picked
-up their various articles of clothing from the corners, chairs,
-bureau, table, etc., where they had been tossed the night before.
-The chambermaid hurried to their assistance, and both boys were soon
-dressed. A plate containing bananas, and another with the hard-earned
-grapes, were on the bureau, and the boys took them and tiptoed down the
-stair and into the dining-room.
-
-“Gwacious!” said Toddie, as he placed his plate on the sideboard;
-“maybe the gwapes an’ buttonanoes has got sour. I guesh we’d better
-try ’em, like mamma does de milk on hot morningsh when the baddy
-milkman don’t come time enough.” Toddie suited the action to the word
-by plucking from a cluster the handsomest grape in sight. “I fink,”
-said he, smacking his lips with the suspicious air of a professional
-taster; “I fink dey is gettin’ sour.”
-
-“Let’s see,” said Budge.
-
-“No,” said Toddie, plucking another grape with one hand while with the
-other he endeavored to cover his gift. “Ize bid enough to do it all
-myself. Unless,” he added, as a happy inspiration struck him, “you’ll
-let me help see if your buttonanoes is sour.”
-
-“Then you can only have one bite,” said Budge. “You must let me taste
-about six grapes, ’cause ’twould take that many to make one of your
-bites on a banana.”
-
-“Aw wight,” said Toddie; and the boys proceeded to exchange duties,
-Budge taking the precaution to hold the banana himself, so that his
-brother should not abstractedly sample a second time, and Toddie doling
-out the grapes with careful count.
-
-“They are a little sour,” said Budge, with a wry face. “Perhaps some
-other bunch is better. I think we’d better try each one, don’t you?”
-
-“An’ each one of the buttonanoes, too,” suggested Toddie. “Dat one
-wazh pretty good, but maybe some of the others isn’t.”
-
-The proposition was accepted, and soon each banana had its length
-reduced by a fourth, and the grape-clusters displayed a fine
-development of wood. Then Budge seemed to realize that his present was
-not as sightly as it might be, for he carefully closed the skins at the
-ends, and turned the unbroken ends to the front as deftly as if he
-were a born retailer of fruit.
-
-[Illustration: “THEN YOU CAN ONLY HAVE ONE BITE,” SAID BUDGE]
-
-This done, he exclaimed: “Oh! we want our cards on ’em, else how will
-she know who they came from?”
-
-“We’ll be here to tell her,” said Toddie.
-
-“Huh!” said Budge; “that wouldn’t make her half so happy. Don’t you
-know how when cousin Florence gets presents of flowers, she’s always
-happiest when she’ lookin’ at the card that comes with ’em?”
-
-“Aw wight,” said Toddie, hurrying into the parlor, and returning with
-the cards of a lady and gentleman, taken haphazard from his aunt’s
-card-receiver.
-
-“Now, we must write ‘Happy Birthday’ on the backs of ’em,” said Budge,
-exploring his pockets, and extracting a stump of a lead pencil. “Now,”
-continued Budge, leaning over the card, and displaying all the facial
-contortions of the unpractised writer, as he laboriously printed, in
-large letters, speaking, as he worked, a letter at a time:
-
-“H--A--P--P--E B--U--R--F--D--A--Happy Birthday. Now, you must hold the
-pencil for yours, or else it won’t be so sweet; that’s what mamma says.”
-
-Toddie took the pencil in his pudgy hand, Budge guided it, and two
-juvenile heads touched each other and swayed and twisted and bobbed in
-unison until the work was completed.
-
-“Now, I think she ought to come,” said Budge. (Breakfast-time was still
-more than an hour distant.) “Why, the rising-bell hasn’t rung yet!
-Let’s ring it!”
-
-The boys fought for possession of the bell, but superior might
-conquered and Budge marched up and down the hall, ringing with the
-enthusiasm and duration peculiar to the amateur.
-
-“Bless me!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, hastening to complete her toilet.
-“How time does fly--sometimes!”
-
-Mr. Burton saw something in his wife’ face that called for lover-like
-treatment, but it was not without a sense of injury that he exclaimed,
-immediately after, as he drew forth his watch:
-
-“I declare! I would make an affidavit that we hadn’t been awake half an
-hour. Ah! I forgot to wind my watch last night.”
-
-The boys hurried into the parlor.
-
-“I hear ’em trampin’ around!” exclaimed Budge, in great excitement.
-“There!--the piano’s shut! Isn’t that too mean? Oh, I’ll tell you;
-here’s Uncle Harry’s violin.”
-
-“But whatsh I goin’ to play on?” asked Toddie, dancing frantically
-about.
-
-“Wait a minute,” said Budge, dropping the violin, and hurrying to the
-floor above, from which he speedily returned with a comb. A bound
-volume of the _Portfolio_ lay upon the table, and opening this, Budge
-tore the tissue paper from one of the etchings and wrapped the comb in
-it.
-
-“There!” said he, “you fiddle an’ I’ll blow the comb. Goodness! why
-don’t they come down? Oh, we forgot to put pennies under the plate, and
-we don’t know how many years old to put ’em for.”
-
-“An’ we ain’t got no pennies,” said Toddie.
-
-“I know,” said Budge, hurrying to a cabinet in a drawer of which his
-uncle kept the nucleus of a collection of American coinage. “This kind
-of pennies,” Budge continued, “isn’t as pretty as our kind, but they’re
-bigger, an’ they’ll look better on a table-cloth. Now, how old do you
-think she is?”
-
-“I dunno,” said Toddie, going into a reverie of hopeless conjecture.
-“She’s about as big as you an’ me put togevver.”
-
-“Well,” said Budge, “you’re four an’ I’m six, an’ four an’ six is
-ten--I guess ten’ll be about the thing.”
-
-Mrs. Burton’s plate was removed, and the pennies were deposited in
-a circle. There was some painful counting and recounting, and many
-disagreements, additions and subtractions. Finally, the pennies were
-arranged in four rows, two of three each and two of two each, and Budge
-counted the threes and Toddie verified the twos, and Budge was adding
-the four sums together, when footsteps were heard descending the stairs.
-
-Budge hastily dropped the surplus coppers upon the four rows, replaced
-the plate, and seized the comb as Toddie placed the violin against
-his knee as he had seen small, itinerant Italians do. A second or two
-later, as the host and hostess entered the dining-room, there arose a
-sound which caused Mrs. Burton to clap her fingers to her ears, while
-her husband exclaimed:
-
-“’Scat!”
-
-Then both boys dropped their instruments, Toddie finding the ways of
-his own feet seriously compromised by the strings of the violin, while
-both children turned happy faces toward their aunt, and shouted:
-
-“Happy Burfday!”
-
-Mr. Burton hurried to the rescue of his darling instrument, while his
-wife gave each boy an appreciative kiss, and showed them a couple of
-grateful tears. Her eye was caught by the fruit on the sideboard, and
-she read the cards aloud:
-
-“Mrs. Frank Rommery--this is just like her effusiveness. I’ve never met
-her but once, but I suppose her bananas must atone for her lack of
-manners. Why, Charley Crewne! Dear me! What memories some men have!”
-
-A cloud came upon Mr. Burton’s brow. Charley Crewne had been one of his
-rivals for Miss Mayton’s hand, and Mrs. Burton was looking a trifle
-thoughtful, and her husband was as unreasonable as newly made husbands
-often are, when Mrs. Burton exclaimed:
-
-“Some one has been picking the grapes off in the most shameful manner.
-Boys!”
-
-“Ain’t from no Rommerys an’ Crewnes!” said Toddie. “Devsh from me an’
-Budgie, an’ we dzust tasted ’em to see if dey’d got sour in the night.”
-
-“Where did the cards come from?” asked Mrs Burton.
-
-“Out of the basket in the parlor,” said Budge. “But the back is the
-nice part of ’em.”
-
-Mrs. Burton’s thoughtful expression and her husband’s frown disappeared
-together as they seated themselves at the table. Both boys wriggled
-vigorously until their aunt raised her plate, and then Budge exclaimed:
-
-“A penny for each year, you know.”
-
-“Thirty-one!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, after counting the heap. “How
-complimentary!”
-
-“What doesh you do for little boys on your bifeday?” asked Toddie,
-after breakfast was served. “Mamma does lots of fings.”
-
-[Illustration: “WHERE DID THE CARDS COME FROM?”]
-
-“Yes,” said Budge, “she says she thinks people ought to get their own
-happy by makin’ other people happy. An’ mamma knows better than you,
-you know, ’cause she’s been married longest.”
-
-Although Mrs. Burton admitted the facts, the inference seemed scarcely
-natural, and she said so.
-
-“Well--a--a--a--a--anyhow,” said Toddie, “mamma always has parties on
-her bifeday, an’ we hazh all de cake we want.”
-
-“You shall be happy to-day,” said Mrs. Burton; “for a few friends will
-be in to see me this afternoon, and I am going to have a nice little
-luncheon for them, and you shall lunch with us, if you will be very
-good until then, and keep yourselves clean and neat.”
-
-“Aw wight,” said Toddie. “Izhn’t it most time now?”
-
-“Tod’s all stomach,” said Budge. “Say, Aunt Alice, I hope you won’t
-forget to have some fruit-cake. That’s the kind we like best.”
-
-“You’ll come home very early, Harry?” asked Mrs. Burton, ignoring her
-nephew’ question.
-
-“By noon, at furthest,” said the gentleman. “I only want to see my
-morning letters, and fill any orders that may be in them.”
-
-“What are you coming so early for, Uncle Harry?” asked Budge.
-
-“To take Aunt Alice riding, old boy,” said Mr. Burton.
-
-“Oh! just listen, Tod! Won’t that be jolly? Uncle Harry’s going to take
-us riding!”
-
-“I said I was going to take your Aunt Alice, Budge,” said Mr. Burton.
-
-“I heard you,” said Budge, “but that won’t trouble us any. She always
-likes to talk to you better than she does to us. Where are we going?”
-
-Mr. Burton asked his wife, in German, whether the Lawrence-Burton
-assurance was not charmingly natural, and Mrs. Burton answered in the
-same tongue that it was, but was none the less deserving of rebuke,
-and that she felt it her duty to tone it down in her nephews. Mr.
-Burton wished her joy of the attempt, and asked a number of searching
-questions about success already attained, until Mrs. Burton was glad to
-see Toddie come out of a brown study and hear him say:
-
-“I fink dat placesh where de river is bwoke off izh de nicest placesh.”
-
-“What does the child mean?” asked his aunt.
-
-“Don’t you know where we went last year, an’ you stopped us from
-seein’ how far we could hang over, Uncle Harry?” said Budge.
-
-“Oh! Passaic Falls!” exclaimed Mr. Burton.
-
-“Yes, that’s it,” said Budge.
-
-“Old riverzh bwoke wight in two dere,” said Toddie, “an’ a piece of
-it’s way up in de air, an’ anuvver piece izh way down in big hole in
-de stones. Datsh where I want to go widin’.”
-
-“Listen, Toddie,” said Mrs. Burton. “We like to take you riding with
-us at most times, but to-day we prefer to go alone. You and Budge will
-stay at home. We sha’n’t be gone more than two hours.”
-
-“Wantsh to go a-widin’,” exclaimed Toddie.
-
-“I know you do, dear, but you must wait until some other day.”
-
-“But I wantsh to go,” Toddie explained.
-
-“And I don’t want you to, so you can’t,” said Mrs. Burton in a tone
-which would reduce any reasonable person to hopelessness. But Toddie,
-in spite of manifest astonishment, remarked:
-
-“Wantsh to go a-widin’.”
-
-“Now the fight is on,” murmured Mr. Burton to himself. Then he arose
-hastily from the table and said:
-
-“I think I’ll try to catch the earlier train, my dear, as I am coming
-back so soon.”
-
-Mrs. Burton arose to bid her husband good-by, and was kissed with
-more than usual tenderness, and then held at arm’ length, while
-manly eyes looked into her own with an expression which she found
-untranslatable--for two hours, at least. Mrs. Burton saw her husband
-fairly on his way, and then she returned to the dining-room, led Toddie
-into the parlor, took him on her lap, wound her arms tenderly about
-him, and said:
-
-“Toddie, dear, listen carefully to what Aunt Alice tells you. There
-are some reasons why you boys should not go with us to-day, and Aunt
-Alice means what she says when she tells you you can’t go with us. If
-you were to ask a hundred times it would not make the slightest bit of
-difference. You cannot go, and you must stop thinking about it.”
-
-Toddie listened intelligently from beginning to end, and replied:
-
-“But I wantsh to go.”
-
-“And you can’t. That ends the matter.”
-
-“No, it don’t,” said Toddie; “not a single bittie. I wantsh to go
-badder dan ever.”
-
-“But you are not going.”
-
-“I wantsh to go so baddy,” said Toddie, beginning to cry.
-
-“I suppose you do, and auntie is very sorry for you, but that does not
-alter the case. When grown people say ‘No!’ little boys must understand
-that they mean it.”
-
-“But what I wantsh izh to go a-widin’ wif you.”
-
-“And what I want is, that you shall stay at home; so you must. Let
-us have no more talk about it now. Shouldn’t you like to go into the
-garden and pick some strawberries all for yourself?”
-
-“No, I’d like to go widin’.”
-
-“Toddie,” said Mrs. Burton, “don’t let me hear one more word about
-riding.”
-
-“Well, I want to go.”
-
-“Toddie, I will have to punish you if you say any more on this subject,
-and that will make me very unhappy. You don’t want to make auntie
-unhappy on her birthday, do you?”
-
-“No; but I do want to go a-widin’.”
-
-“Listen, Toddie,” said Mrs. Burton, with an imperious stamp of her
-foot, and a sudden loss of her entire stock of patience. “If you say
-one more word about that trip, I shall lock you in the attic chamber,
-where you were the day before yesterday, and Budge shall not be with
-you.”
-
-Toddie gave vent to a torrent of tears, and screamed:
-
-“A--h--h--h! I don’t want to be locked up, an’ I do want to go
-a-widin’!”
-
-[Illustration: HE KICKED, PUSHED, SCREAMED AND ROARED]
-
-Toddie suddenly found himself clasped tightly in his aunt’ arms, in
-which position he kicked, pushed, screamed and roared during the
-passage of two flights of stairs. The moment of his final incarceration
-was marked by a piercing shriek which escaped from the attic-window,
-causing the dog Terry to retire precipitately from a pleasing lounging
-place on the well-curb, and making a passing farmer to rein up his
-horses and maintain a listening position for the space of five minutes.
-Meanwhile Mrs. Burton descended to the parlor, more flushed, untidy and
-angry than any one had ever seen her. She soon encountered the gaze of
-her nephew Budge, and it was full of solemnity, inquiry and reproach.
-
-“How would you like to be carried up-stairs screamin’ an’ put in a
-lonely room, just ’cause you wanted to go ridin’?” Budge asked.
-
-Mrs. Burton was unable to imagine herself in any such position, but
-replied:
-
-“I should never be so foolish as to keep on wanting what I knew I could
-not have.”
-
-“Why!” exclaimed Budge. “Are grown folks as smart as all that?”
-
-Mrs. Burton’s conscience smote her not overlightly, and she hastened
-to change the subject, and to devote herself assiduously to Budge, as
-if to atone for some injury which she might have done his brother. An
-occasional howl which fell from the attic-window increased her zeal for
-Budge’s comfort; under each one, however, her resolution grew weaker,
-and, finally, with a hypocritical excuse to Budge, she hurried up to
-the door of Toddie’s prison and said through the keyhole:
-
-“Toddie?”
-
-“What?”
-
-“Will you be a good boy, now?”
-
-“Yesh, if you’ll take me a-widin’.”
-
-Mrs. Burton turned abruptly away, and simply flew down the stairs.
-Budge, who awaited her at the foot, instinctively stood aside, and
-exclaimed:
-
-“I thought you was goin’ to tumble! Why didn’t you bring him down?”
-
-“Bring who?”
-
-“Oh, I know what you went up-stairs for,” said Budge. “Your eyes told
-me all about it.”
-
-“You’re certainly a rather inconvenient companion,” said Mrs. Burton,
-averting her face, “and I want you to run home and ask how your mamma
-and baby-sister are. Don’t stay long: remember that luncheon will be
-earlier than usual to-day.”
-
-Away went Budge, and Mrs. Burton devoted herself to thought.
-Unquestioning obedience had been her own duty since she could
-remember, yet she was certain that her will was as strong as Toddie’.
-If she had been always able to obey, certainly the unhappy little boy
-in the attic was equally capable; why should he not do it? Perhaps, she
-admitted to herself, she had inherited a faculty in this direction, and
-perhaps--yes, certainly, Toddie had done nothing of the sort. How was
-she to overcome the defect in his disposition; or was she to do it at
-all? Was it not something with which no one temporarily having a child
-in charge should interfere?
-
-An occasional scream from Toddie helped to unbend the severity of her
-principles, but suddenly her eye rested upon a picture of her husband,
-and she seemed to see in one of the eyes a quizzical expression. All
-her determination came back in an instant with heavy re-enforcements,
-and Budge came back a few moments later. His bulletins from home, and
-his stores of experiences _en route_ consumed but a few moments, and
-then Mrs. Burton proceeded to dress for her ride. To exclude Toddie’s
-screams she closed her door tightly, but Toddie’s voice was one with
-which all timber seemed in sympathy, and it pierced door and window
-apparently without effort. Gradually, however, it seemed to cease, and
-with the growing infrequency of his howls and the increasing feebleness
-of their utterance, Mrs. Burton’s spirits revived. Dressing leisurely,
-she ascended to Toddie’s prison to receive his declaration of penitence
-and to accord a gracious pardon. She knocked softly at the door and
-said:
-
-“Toddie?”
-
-There was no response, so Mrs. Burton knocked and called with more
-energy than before, but without reply. A terrible fear occurred to
-her; she had heard of children who screamed themselves to death when
-angry. Hastily she opened the door, and saw Toddie, tear-stained and
-dirty, lying on the floor, fast asleep. She stooped over him to be sure
-that he still breathed, and then the expression on his sweetly parted
-lips was such that she could not help kissing it. Then she raised the
-pathetic, desolate little figure softly in her arms, and the little
-head dropped upon her shoulder and nestled close to her, and one little
-arm was clasped tightly around her neck, and a soft voice murmured:
-
-“I wantsh to go a-widin’.”
-
-Just then Mr. Burton entered, and, with an exasperating affectation of
-ingenuousness and uncertainty asked:
-
-“Did you conquer his will, my dear?”
-
-His wife annihilated him with a look, and led the way to the
-dining-room; meanwhile, Toddie awoke, straightened himself, rubbed his
-eyes, recognized his uncle, and exclaimed:
-
-“Uncle Harry, does you know where we’ goin’ dis afternoon? We’s goin’
-a-widin’.”
-
-Mr. Burton hid in his napkin the half of his face that was below his
-eyes, and his wife wished that his eyes might have been hidden too, for
-never in her life had she been so averse to having her own eyes looked
-into.
-
-The saintliness of both boys during the afternoon’s ride took the
-sting out of Mrs. Burton’s defeat. They gabbled to each other about
-flowers and leaves and birds, and they assumed ownership of the few
-summer clouds that were visible, and made sundry exchanges of them with
-each other. When the dog Terry, who had surreptitiously followed the
-carriage and grown weary, was taken in by his master they even allowed
-him to lie at their feet without kicking, pinching his ears or pulling
-his tail.
-
-[Illustration: THE JARDINIÈRE CAME DOWN WITH A CRASH]
-
-As for Mrs. Burton, no right-minded husband could wilfully torment his
-wife upon her birthday, so she soon forgot the humiliation of the
-morning, and came home with superb spirits and matchless complexion
-for the little party. Her guests soon began to arrive, and after the
-company had assembled Mrs. Burton’s chambermaid ushered in Budge and
-Toddie, each in spotless attire, and the dog Terry ushered himself in,
-and Toddie saw him and made haste to interview him, and the two got
-inextricably mixed about the legs of a light jardinière, and it came
-down with a crash, and then the two were sent into disgrace, which
-suited them exactly, although there was a difference between them as to
-whether the dog Terry should seek and enjoy the seclusion upon which
-his heart was evidently intent.
-
-Then Budge retired with a face full of brotherly solicitude, and Mrs.
-Burton was enabled to devote herself to the friends to whom she had not
-previously been able to address two consecutive sentences.
-
-Mrs. Burton occasionally suggested to her husband that it might be
-well to see where the boys were and what they were doing, but that
-gentleman had seldom before found himself the only man among a dozen
-comely and intelligent ladies, and he was too conscious of the rarity
-of such experiences to trouble himself about a couple of people who had
-unlimited ability to keep themselves out of sight, so the boys were
-undisturbed for the space of two hours. A sudden summer shower came up
-in the meantime, and a sentimental young lady requested the song “The
-Rain upon the Roof,” and Mrs. Burton and her husband began to render it
-as a duet; but in the middle of the second stanza Mrs. Burton began to
-cough, and Mr. Burton sniffed the air apprehensively, while several of
-the ladies started to their feet, while others turned pale. The air of
-the room was evidently filling with smoke.
-
-“There can’t be any danger, ladies,” said Mrs. Burton. “You all know
-what the American domestic servant is. I suppose our cook, with her
-delicate sense of the appropriate, is relighting her fire, and has the
-kitchen door wide open, so that all the smoke may escape through the
-house instead of the chimney. I’ll go and stop it.”
-
-The mere mention of servants had its usual effect; the ladies began at
-once that animated conversation which this subject has always inspired,
-and which it will probably continue to inspire until all housekeepers
-gather in that happy land, one of whose charms it is that the American
-kitchen is undiscernible within its borders, and the purified domestic
-may stand before her mistress without needing a scolding. But one
-nervous young lady, whose agitation was being manifested by her feet
-alone, happened to touch with the toe of her boot the turn-screw of
-a hot-air register. Instantly she sprang back and uttered a piercing
-scream, while from the register there arose a thick column of smoke.
-
-“Fire!” screamed one lady.
-
-“Water!” shrieked another.
-
-“Oh!” shouted several in chorus.
-
-Some ran up-stairs, others into the rainy street, the nervous young
-lady fainted, a business-like young matron, who had for years been
-maturing plans of operation in case of fire, hastily swept into a
-table-cover a dozen books in special morocco bindings, and hurried
-through the rain with them to a house several hundred feet away, while
-the faithful dog Terry, scenting the trouble afar off, hurried home
-and did his duty to the best of his ability by barking and snapping
-furiously at every one, and galloping frantically through the house,
-leaving his mark upon almost every square yard of carpet. Meanwhile
-Mr. Burton hurried up-stairs coatless, with disarranged hair, dirty
-hands, smirched face, and assured the ladies that there was no danger,
-while Budge and Toddie, the former deadly pale, and the latter almost
-apoplectic in color, sneaked up to their own chamber.
-
-The company dispersed; ladies who had expected carriages did not wait
-for them, but struggled to the extreme verge of politeness for the
-use of such umbrellas and waterproof cloaks as Mrs. Burton could
-supply. Fifteen minutes later the only occupant of the parlor was the
-dog Terry, who lay, with alert head, in the centre of a large Turkish
-chair. Mrs. Burton, tenderly supported by her husband, descended the
-stair, and contemplated with tightly compressed lips and blazing eyes
-the disorder of her desolated parlor. When, however, she reached the
-dining-room and beheld the exquisitely set table, to the arrangement of
-which she had devoted hours of thought in preceding days and weeks, she
-burst into a flood of tears.
-
-“I’ll tell you how it was,” said Budge, who appeared suddenly and
-without invitation, and whose consciousness of good intention made him
-as adamant before the indignant frowns of his uncle and aunt, “I always
-think bonfires is the nicest things about celebrations, an’ Tod an’
-me have been carryin’ sticks for two days to make a big bonfire in the
-back yard to-day. But it rained, an’ rainy sticks won’t burn. So we
-thought we’d make one in the cellar, ’cause the top is all tin, an’
-the bottom’s all dirt, an’ it can’t rain in there at all. An’ we got
-lots of newspapers and kindlin’-wood, an’ put some kerosene on it,
-an’ it blazed up beautiful, an’ we was just comin’ up to ask you
-all down to look at it, when in came Uncle Harry, an’ banged me against
-the wall an’ Tod into the coal heap, an’ threw a mean old dirty
-carpet on top of it, an’ wetted it all over.”
-
-“Little boysh never can do anyfing nysh wivout bein’ made to don’t,”
-said Toddie. “Dzust see what an awful big splinter I got in my hand
-when I was froin’ wood on de fire! I didn’t cry a bit about it den,
-’cause I fought I was makin’ uvver folks happy, like de Lord wants
-little boysh to. But dey didn’t get happy, so now I’m goin’ to cry
-’bout de splinter!”
-
-And Toddie raised a howl which was as much superior to his usual cry as
-things made to order generally are to the ordinary supply.
-
-“We had a torchlight procession too,” said Budge. “We had to have it in
-the attic, but it wasn’t very nice. There wasn’t any trees up there for
-the light to dance around on, like it does on ’lection-day nights. So
-we just stopped, an’ would have felt real doleful if we hadn’t thought
-of the bonfire.”
-
-“Where did you leave the torches?” asked Mr. Burton, springing from his
-chair, and lifting his wife to her feet at the same time.
-
-[Illustration: “THREW A MEAN OLD DIRTY CARPET ON TOP OF IT”]
-
-“I--I dunno,” said Budge, after a moment of thought.
-
-“Froed ’em in a closet so’s not to dyty de nice floor wif ’em,” said
-Toddie.
-
-Mr. Burton hurried up-stairs and extinguished a smoldering heap of
-rags, while his wife, truer to herself than she imagined she was, drew
-Budge to her, and said, kindly:
-
-“Wanting to make people happy, and doing it, are two very different
-things, Budge.”
-
-“Yes, I should think they was,” said Budge, with an emphasis which
-explained much that was left unsaid.
-
-“Little boysh is goosies for tryin’ to make big folksh happy at all,”
-said Toddie, beginning again to cry.
-
-“Oh, no, they’re not, dear,” said Mrs. Burton, taking the sorrowful
-child on her lap. “But they don’t always understand how best to do it,
-so they ought to ask big folks before they begin.”
-
-“Den dere wouldn’t be no s’prises,” complained Toddie. “Say, izh we
-goin’ to eat all dis supper?”
-
-“I suppose so, if we can,” sighed Mrs. Burton.
-
-“I guesh we can--Budgie an’ me,” said Toddie. “An’ won’t we be glad
-all them wimmens wented away!”
-
-That evening, after the boys had retired, Mrs. Burton seemed a little
-uneasy of mind, and at length she said to her husband:
-
-“I feel guilty at never having directed the boys’s devotions since they
-have been here, and I know no better time than the present in which to
-begin.”
-
-Mr. Burton’s eyes followed his wife reverently as she left the room.
-The service she proposed to render the children she had sometimes
-performed for himself, with results for which he could not be grateful
-enough, and yet it was not with unalloyed anticipation that he softly
-followed her up the stair. Mrs. Burton went into the chamber and found
-the boys playing battering-ram, each with a pillow in front of him.
-
-“Children,” said she, “have you said your prayers?”
-
-“No,” said Budge; “somebody’s got to be knocked down first. Then we
-will.”
-
-A sudden tumble by Toddie was the signal for devotional exercises, and
-both boys knelt beside the bed.
-
-“Now, darlings,” said Mrs. Burton, “you have made some sad mistakes
-to-day, and they should teach you that, even when you want most to do
-right, you need to be helped by somebody better. Don’t you think so?”
-
-“I do,” said Budge. “Lots.”
-
-“I don’t,” said Toddie. “More help I getsh, de worse fings is. Guesh
-I’ll do fings all alone affer dish.”
-
-“I know what to say to the Lord to-night, Aunt Alice,” said Budge.
-
-“Dear little boy,” said Mrs. Burton. “Go on.”
-
-“Dear Lord,” said Budge, “we do have the awfullest times when we try to
-make other folks happy. Do, please, Lord, please teach big folks how
-hard little folks have to think before they do things for ’em. An’ make
-’em understand little folks every way better than they do, so that they
-don’t make little folks unhappy when they try to make big folks feel
-jolly. Make big folks have to think as hard as little folks do. Amen!
-Oh yes, an’ bless dear mamma an’ the sweet little sister baby. How’s
-that, Aunt Alice?”
-
-Mrs. Burton did not reply, and Budge, on turning, saw only her
-departing figure, while Toddie remarked:
-
-“Now it’s my tyne. Dear Lord, when I getsh to be a little boy anzel up
-in hebben, don’t let growed-up anzels come along whenever I’m doin’
-anyfing nysh for ’em, an’ say ’don’t’s or tumble me down in heaps of
-nashty old black coal. Dere! Amen!”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V
-
-
-It was with a sneaking sense of relief that Mrs. Burton awoke on the
-following morning, and realized that the day was Sunday.
-
-“Even school-teachers have two days of rest in every seven,” she said
-to herself, “and no one doubts that they deserve them. How much more
-deserving of rest and relief must be the volunteer teacher who, not for
-a few hours only, but from dawn to twilight, has charge of two children
-whose capacity for both learning and mischief surely equals any school
-full of boys.”
-
-The feeling that she was attempting for a few days only that which
-mothers everywhere were doing without hope of rest excepting in heaven,
-made her feel humble and worthless, but it did not banish her wish to
-turn the children over to the care of their uncle for the day. Thoughts
-of a Sunday excursion, from participation in which she should in some
-way excuse herself; of volunteering to relieve her sister-in-law’s
-nurse during the day, and thus leaving her husband, in charge of the
-house and the children; of making that visit to her mother which is
-always in order with the young wife--all these, and other devices not
-so practicable, came before her mind’s eye for comparison, but they all
-and together took sudden wing when her husband awoke and complained of
-a raging toothache. Truly pitiful and sympathetic as Mrs. Burton was,
-she exhibited remarkable resignation in the face of the thought that
-her husband would probably need to remain in his room all day, and
-that it would be absolutely necessary to keep the children out of his
-sight and hearing. Then he could find nothing to criticise; she might
-fail frequently, as she probably would, but he would know only of her
-successes.
-
-A light knock was heard at Mrs. Burton’s door, and then, without waiting
-for invitation there came in two fresh, rosy faces, two heads of
-disarranged hair, and two long white night-gowns, and the occupant of
-the longer gown exclaimed:
-
-“Say, Uncle Harry, do you know it’s Sunday? What are you going to do
-about it? We always have lots done for us Sundays, ’cause it’s the only
-day papa’s home.”
-
-“Yes, I--think I’ve heard--something of the kind--before,” mumbled Mr.
-Burton, with difficulty, between the fingers that covered his aching
-tooth.
-
-[Illustration: TODDIE PLAYING BEAR]
-
-“Oh--h,” exclaimed Toddie, “I b’lieve he’s goin’ to play bear! Come
-on, Budgie, we’s got to be dogs.” And Toddie buried his face in the
-bed-covering and succeeded in fastening his teeth in his uncle’s calf.
-A howl from the sufferer did not frighten off the amateur dog, and
-he was finally dislodged only by being clutched by the throat by his
-victim.
-
-“Dat izhn’t de way to play bear,” complained Toddie. “You ought to
-keep on a-howlin’, an’ let me keep on a-bitin’, an’ den you give me
-pennies to stop. Dat’s de way papa does.”
-
-“Can you see how Tom Lawrence can be so idiotic?” asked Mrs. Burton.
-
-“I suppose I could,” replied the sufferer, “if I hadn’t such a
-toothache.”
-
-“You poor old fellow!” said Mrs. Burton, tenderly. Then she turned to
-her nephews, and exclaimed: “Now, boys, listen to me! Uncle Harry is
-very sick to-day--he has a dreadful toothache, and every particle of
-bother and noise will make it worse. You must both keep away from his
-room, and be as quiet as possible wherever you may be in the house.
-Even the sound of people talking is very annoying to a person with the
-toothache.”
-
-“Den you’s a baddy woman to stay in here an’ keep a-talkin’ all de
-whole time,” said Toddie, “when it makes poor old Uncle Harry hurt so.
-G’way.”
-
-Mrs. Burton’s lord and master was not in too much pain to shake with
-silent laughter at this rebuke, and the lady herself was too startled
-to devise an appropriate retort, so the boys amused themselves by a
-general exploration of the chamber, not omitting the pockets of their
-uncle’s clothing. This work completed to the full extent of their
-ability, they demanded breakfast.
-
-“Breakfast won’t be ready until eight o’clock,” said Mrs. Burton, “and
-it is now only six. If you little boys don’t wish to feel dreadfully
-hungry you had better go back to bed and lie as quiet as possible.”
-
-“Is dat de way not to be hungry?” asked Toddie, with the wide-open
-eyes, which always accompany the receptive mind.
-
-“Certainly,” said Mrs. Burton. “If you run about, you agitate your
-stomachs, and that makes them restless, so you feel hungry.”
-
-“Gwacious!” said Toddie. “What lots of fings little boys has got to
-lyne, hazn’t dey? Come on, Budgie; let’s go put our tummuks to bed,
-an’keep ’em from gettin’ ajjerytated.”
-
-“All right,” said Budge. “But say, Aunt Alice, don’t you s’pose our
-stomachs would be sleepier an’ not so restless if there was some
-crackers or bread an’ butter in ’em?”
-
-“There’s no one down-stairs to get you any,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Oh,” said Budge, “we can find ’em. We know where everything is in the
-pantries and storeroom.”
-
-“I wish I were so clever,” sighed Mrs. Burton. “Go along; get what you
-like, but don’t come back to this room again. And don’t let me find
-anything in disorder down-stairs, or I shall never trust you in my
-kitchen again.”
-
-Away flew the children, but their disappearance only made room for a
-new torment, for Mr. Burton stopped in the middle of the operation of
-shaving himself, and remarked:
-
-“I’ve been longing for Sunday to come, for your sake, my dear. The
-boys, as you have frequently observed, have very strange notions about
-good things; but they are also, by nature, quite spiritually minded.
-You are not only this latter, but you are free from strange doctrines
-and the traditions of men. The mystical influences of the day will make
-themselves felt upon those innocent little hearts, and you will have an
-opportunity to correct wrong teachings and instill new sentiments and
-truths.”
-
-Mr. Burton’s voice had grown a bit shaky as he reached the close
-of this neat little speech, so that his wife scrutinized his face
-closely to see if there might not be a laugh somewhere about it. A
-friendly coating of lather protected one cheek, however, and the
-troublesome tooth had distorted the shape of the other, so Mrs.
-Burton was compelled to accept the mingled ascription of praise and
-responsibility, which she did with a sinking heart.
-
-“I’ll take care of them while you’re at church, my dear,” said Mr.
-Burton. “They’re always saintly with sick people.”
-
-Mrs. Burton breathed a sigh of relief. She determined that she would
-extemporize a special “Children’s Service” immediately after breakfast,
-and impress her nephews as fully as possible with the spirit of the
-day; then if her husband would but continue the good work thus begun,
-it would be impossible for the boys to fall from grace in the few hours
-which remained between dinner time and darkness. Full of her project,
-and forgetting that she had allowed her chambermaid to go to early
-service, and promised herself to see that the children were dressed
-for breakfast, Mrs. Burton, at the breakfast-table, noticed that her
-nephews did not respond with their usual alacrity to the call of the
-bell. Recalling her forgotten duty, she hurried to the boys’s chamber,
-and found them already enjoying a repast which was remarkable for
-variety. On a small table, drawn to the side of the bed, was a pie, a
-bowl of pickles, a dish of honey in the comb, and a small package of
-cinnamon bark; with spoons, knives and forks and fingers the boys were
-helping themselves to these delicacies. Seeing his aunt, Toddie looked
-rather guilty, but Budge displayed the smile of the fully justified,
-and remarked:
-
-“Now, you know what kind of meals little boys like, Aunt Alice. I hope
-you won’t forget it while we’re here.”
-
-“What do you mean!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, sternly, “by bringing such
-things up-stairs?”
-
-“Why,” said Budge, “you told us to get what we wanted, an’ we supposed
-you told the troof.”
-
-“An’ I ain’t azh hungry azh I wazh,” said Toddie, “but my tummuk feels
-as if it growed big and got little again, every minute or two, an’ it
-hurts. I wishes we could put tummuks away when we get done usin’ ’em,
-like we do hats an’ over-shoes.”
-
-To sweep the remains of the unique morning lunch into a heap and away
-from her nephews, was a work which occupied but a second or two of Mrs.
-Burton’s time; this done, two little boys found themselves robed more
-rapidly than they had ever before been. Arrived at the breakfast-table,
-they eyed with withering contempt an irreproachable cutlet, some crisp
-brown potatoes of waferlike thinness, and a heap of rolls almost as
-light as snowflakes.
-
-“We don’t want none of this kind of breakfast,” said Budge.
-
-“Of coursh we don’t,” said Toddie, “when we’s so awful full of uvver
-fings. I don’t know where I’zhe goin’ to put my dinner when it comes
-time to eat it.”
-
-“Don’t fret about that, Tod,” said Budge. “Don’t you know papa says
-that the Bible says somethin’ that means ‘don’t worry till you have
-to’?”
-
-Mrs. Burton raised her eyebrows with horror not unmixed with inquiry,
-and her husband hastened to give Budge’s sentiment its proper biblical
-wording, “Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” Mrs. Burton’
-wonder was allayed by the explanation, although her horror was not, and
-she made haste to say:
-
-“Boys, we will have a little Sunday-school, all by ourselves, in the
-parlor immediately after breakfast.”
-
-“Hooray!” shouted Budge. “An’ will you give us a ticket an’ pass
-around a box for pennies, just like they do in big Sunday-schools?”
-
-“I--suppose so,” said Mrs. Burton, who had not previously thought of
-these special attractions of the successful Sunday-school.
-
-“Let’s go right in, Tod,” said Budge, “’cause the dog’s in there. I saw
-him as I came down, and I shut all the doors so he couldn’t get out. We
-can have some fun with him ’fore Sunday-school begins.”
-
-Both boys started for the parlor-door, and, guided by that marvellous
-instinct with which Providence arms the few against the many, and the
-weak against the strong, the dog Terry, also approached the door from
-the inside. As the door opened there was heard a convulsive howl, and
-a general tumbling of small boys, while at almost the same instant
-Terry flew into the dining-room and hid himself in the folds of his
-mistress’s morning robe. Two or three minutes later Budge entered the
-dining-room with a very rueful countenance, and remarked:
-
-“I guess we need that Sunday-school pretty quick, Aunt Alice. The dog
-don’t want to play with us, and we ought to be comforted some way.”
-
-“They’re grown people, all over again,” remarked Mr. Burton, with a
-laugh.
-
-“What do you mean?” demanded Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Only this; when their own devices fail, they’re in a hurry for the
-consolations of religion. May I visit the Sunday-school?”
-
-“I suppose I can’t keep you away,” sighed Mrs. Burton, leading the way
-to the parlor. “Boys,” said she, greeting her nephews, “first we’ll
-sing a little hymn. What shall it be?”
-
-“Ole Uncle Ned,” said Toddie.
-
-“Oh, that’s not a Sunday song.”
-
-“I fink tizh,” said Toddie, “’cause it sayzh, free or four timezh,
-‘He’s gone where de good niggers go,’s an’ dat’s hebben, you know. So
-it’s a Sunday song.”
-
-“I think ‘Glory, glory, hallelujah!’s is nicer,” said Budge, “an’ I
-know it’s a Sunday song, ’cause I’ve heard it in church.”
-
-“Aw wight,” said Toddie; and he started the old air himself, with the
-words, “There liezh de whiskey-bottle, empty on de sheff,” but was
-suddenly brought to order by a shake from his aunt, while his uncle
-danced about the front parlor in an ecstasy not directly traceable to
-toothache.
-
-“That’s not a Sunday song, either, Toddie,” said Mrs. Burton. “The
-words are real rowdyish. Where did you learn them?”
-
-“Round the corner from our housh,” said Toddie; “an’ you can shing you
-ole shongs yourseff, if you don’t like mine.”
-
-Mrs. Burton went to the piano, rambled among chords for a few seconds,
-and finally recalled a Sunday-school air in which Toddie joined as
-angelically as if his own musical taste had never been impugned.
-
-“Now, I guess we’d better take up the collection before any little
-boys lose their pennies,” said Budge, hurrying to the dining-room, and
-returning with a strawberry-box which seemed to have been specially
-provided for the occasion; this he passed gravely before Toddie, and
-Toddie held his hand over it as carefully as if he were depositing
-hundreds, and then Toddie took the box and passed it before Budge, who
-made the same dumb show, after which Budge retook the box, shook it,
-listened, remarked, “It don’t rattle--I guess it’s all paper-money
-to-day,” placed it upon the mantel, reseated himself, and remarked:
-
-“Now bring on your lesson.”
-
-[Illustration: BUDGE TAKING UP THE COLLECTION]
-
-Mrs. Burton opened her Bible with a sense of helplessness. With the
-instinct of a person given to thoroughness, she opened at the beginning
-of the book, but she speedily closed it again. Turning the leaves
-rapidly; passing, for conscience’s sake, the record of many a battle,
-the details of which would have delighted the boys, and hurrying past
-the prophecies as records not for the minds of children, she at last
-reached the New Testament and the ever-new story of the only boy who
-ever was all that his parents and relatives could wish him.
-
-“The lesson will be about Jesus,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Little-boy Jesus or big-man Jesus?” asked Toddie.
-
-“A--a--both,” replied the teacher, in confusion.
-
-“Aw wight,” said Toddie. “G’won.”
-
-“There was once a time when all the world was in trouble, without
-knowing exactly why,” said Mrs. Burton; “but the Lord understood it,
-for He understands everything.”
-
-“Does He know how it feels to be a little boy,” asked Toddie, “an’ be
-sent to bed when He don’t want to go?”
-
-“And He determined to comfort the world, as He always does when the
-world finds out it can’t comfort itself,” continued Mrs. Burton,
-ignoring her nephew’s questions.
-
-“But wasn’t dere lotsh of little boyzh den?” asked Toddie, “an’
-didn’t they need to be comforted as well as big folks?”
-
-“I suppose so. But He knew that if He comforted grown people, they
-would make the children happy.”
-
-“I wiss He’d comfort you an’ Uncle Harry ev’ry mornin’, den,” said
-Toddie. “G’won.”
-
-“So He sent His own Son--His only Son--down to the world to be a dear
-little baby. And while smart people everywhere were wondering what
-would or could happen to quiet the restless heart of people----”
-
-“Izh restless hearts like restless tummuks?” interrupted Toddie. “Kind
-o’ pumpy an’ wabbley?”
-
-“I suppose so.”
-
-“Poor folks!” said Toddie, clasping his hands over his waistband.
-“I’zhe sorry for ’em.”
-
-“While smart folks were trying to think out what should be done,”
-continued Mrs. Burton, “some shepherds, who used to sit around at night
-under the moon and stars, and wonder about things which they could not
-understand, saw a wonderfully bright star in the sky.”
-
-“Was it one of the twinkle-twinkle kind, or one of the stand-still
-kind?” asked Toddie.
-
-“I don’t know,” said Mrs. Burton, after a moment’s reflection. “Why do
-you ask?”
-
-“’Cauzh,” said Toddie, “I know what ’twazh dere for, an’ it ought to
-have twinkled, ’cauzh twinkley stars bob open an’ shut dat way ’cauzh
-dey’re laughin’ an’ can’t keep still, an’ I know I’d have laughed
-if I’d been a star an’ was goin’ to make a lot of folks awful happy.
-G’won.”
-
-“Then,” said Mrs. Burton, looking alternately and frequently at the two
-accounts of the Advent, “they suddenly saw an angel, and the shepherds
-were afraid.”
-
-“Should fink dey would be!” said Toddie. “Everybody gets afraid when
-dey see good people around. I ’pec dey thought de angel would say
-‘Don’t!’ in about a minute.”
-
-“But the angel told them not to be afraid,” said Mrs. Burton, “for he
-had come to bring good news. There was to be a baby born at Bethlehem,
-and He would make everybody happy.”
-
-“Wouldn’t it be nice if that angel would come an’ do it all over
-again?” Budge asked. “Only he ought to pick out little boys instead of
-sheep fellows. I wouldn’t be afraid of an angel.”
-
-“Neiver would I,” said Toddie. “I’d dzust go round behind him an’ see
-how his wings was fastened on.”
-
-“Then a great many other angels came,” said Mrs. Burton, “and they
-all sang together. The shepherds didn’t know what to make of it, but
-after the singing was over they all started for Bethlehem to see that
-wonderful baby.”
-
-“Just like the other day we went to see the sister-baby!”
-
-“Yes,” said Mrs. Burton; “but instead of finding him in a pleasant home
-and a nice room, with careful friends and nurses around him, he was in
-a manger out in a stable.”
-
-“That was ’cause he was so smart that he could do just what he wanted
-to, an’ be just where he liked,” said Budge, “an’ he was a little
-boy, an’ little boys always like stables better than houses. I wish I
-could live in a stable always an’ for ever!”
-
-“So do I,” said Toddie, “an’ sleep in mangers, ’cauzh den de horses
-would kick anybody dat made me put on clean clozhezh when I didn’t want
-to. Dey gaveded him presentsh, didn’t they?”
-
-“Yes,” said Mrs. Burton; “gold, frankincense, and myrrh.”
-
-“Why didn’t they give him rattles and squealey-balls, like folks did
-budder Phillie when he was a baby,” asked Toddie.
-
-“Because, Toddie,” said Mrs. Burton, glad of an opportunity to get the
-sentiment of the story into her own hands, from which it had departed
-very early in the course of the lesson--“because he was no common baby,
-like other children.”
-
-“Did he play around, like uvver little boysh?” continued Toddie.
-
-“I--I--suppose so,” said Mrs. Burton, fearing lest in trying to instill
-reverence into her nephews, she herself might prove irreverent.
-
-“Did somebody say ‘Don’t’ at him every time he did anyfing?” continued
-Toddie.
-
-“N--n--n--o! I imagine not,” said Mrs. Burton, “because he was always
-good.”
-
-“That don’t make no diffwelence,” said Toddie. “De better a little boy
-triesh to be, de more folks says ‘Don’t’ to him. So I guesh nobody had
-any time to say anyfing elsh at all to Jesus.”
-
-“What did he do next?” asked Budge, as deeply interested as if he had
-not heard the same story many times before.
-
-“He grew strong in body and spirit,” said Mrs. Burton, “and everybody
-loved him; but before he had time to do all that, an angel came and
-frightened his papa in a dream, and told him that the king of that
-country would kill little Jesus if he could find him. So Joseph and
-Mary, the mamma of the baby, got up in the middle of the night and
-started off to Egypt.”
-
-“What did they do when they got there?” Budge asked.
-
-“I don’t know,” said Mrs. Burton. “I suppose the papa worked hard for
-money to buy good food and comfortable resting-places for his wife and
-the baby; and I suppose the mamma walked about the fields, and picked
-pretty flowers for her baby to play with; and I suppose the baby cooed
-when his mamma gave them to him, and laughed and danced and played, and
-then got tired, and came and hid his little face in his mamma’s lap,
-and was taken into her arms and held ever so tight, and fell asleep,
-and that his mother looked into his face as if she would look through
-it, while she tried to find out what her baby would be and do when he
-grew up, and whether he would be taken away from her, while it seemed
-as if she couldn’t live at all without having him very closely pressed
-to her breast and----”
-
-Mrs. Burton’s voice grew a little shaky and soon failed her entirely.
-Budge came in front of her, scrutinized her intently but with great
-sympathy also, rested his elbows on her knees, dropped his face into
-his own hands, looked up into her face, and said:
-
-“Why, Aunt Alice, she was just like my mamma, wasn’t she? An’ I think
-you are just like both of ’em!”
-
-Mrs. Burton took Budge into her arms, covered his face with kisses, and
-totally destroyed another chance of explaining the difference between
-the earthly and the heavenly to her pupils, while Toddie eyed the
-couple with evident disfavor, and said:
-
-“I fink ’twould be nicer if you’d see if dinner was bein’ got ready,
-instead of stoppin’ tellin’ stories an’ huggin’ Budgie. My tummuk’
-all gotted little again.”
-
-Mrs. Burton came back to the world of to-day from that of history,
-though not without a sigh, while the dog Terry, who had divined
-the peaceful nature of the occasion so far as to feel justified in
-reclining beneath his mistress’ chair, now contracted himself into the
-smallest possible space, slunk out of the doorway, and took a lively
-quickstep in the direction of the shrubbery. Toddie had seen him,
-however, and told Budge, and both boys were soon in pursuit, noticing
-which, Terry speedily betook himself to that distant retirement which
-the dog who has experience in small boys knows well how to discover and
-maintain.
-
-As the morning wore on the boys grew restless, fought, drummed on the
-piano, snarled when that instrument was closed, meddled with everything
-that was within reach, and finally grew so troublesome that their aunt
-soon felt that to lose was cheaper than to save, so she left the house
-to the children, and sought the side of the lounge upon which her
-afflicted husband reclined. The divining sense of childhood soon found
-her out, however, and Budge remarked:
-
-“Aunt Alice, if you’re going to church, seems to me it’s time you was
-getting ready.”
-
-“I can’t go to church, Budge,” sighed Mrs. Burton. “If I do, you boys
-will only turn the whole house upside down, and drive your poor uncle
-nearly crazy.”
-
-“No, we won’t,” said Budge. “You don’t know what nice nurses we can be
-to sick people. Papa says nobody can even imagine how well we can take
-care of anybody until they see us do it. If you don’t believe it, just
-leave us with Uncle Harry, an’ stay home from church an’ peek through
-the keyhole.”
-
-“Go on, dear,” said Mr. Burton. “If you want to go to church, don’t
-be afraid to leave me. I think you should go, after your experience
-of this morning. I shouldn’t think your mind could be at peace until
-you had joined your voice with that of the great congregation, and
-acknowledged yourself to be a miserable sinner.”
-
-[Illustration: TERRY]
-
-Mrs. Burton winced, but nevertheless retired, and soon appeared dressed
-for church, kissed her husband and her nephews, gave many last
-instructions, and departed. Budge followed her with his eye until she
-had stepped from the piazza, and then remarked, with a sigh of relief:
-
-“Now I guess we’ll have what papa calls a good, old-fashioned time, for
-we’ve got rid of her.”
-
-“Budge!” exclaimed Mr. Burton, sternly, and springing to his feet, “do
-you know who you are talking about? Don’t you know that your Aunt Alice
-has saved you from many a scolding, done you many a favor, and been
-your best friend?”
-
-“Oh, yes,” said Budge, with at least a dozen inflections on each word,
-“but ev’ry day friends an’ Sunday friends are kind o’ different; don’t
-you think so? She can’t make whistles, or catch bullfrogs, or carry
-both of us up the mountain on her shoulders, or sing ‘Roll, Jordan.’”
-
-“And do you expect me to do all these things to-day?”
-
-“N--n--no, unless you should get well, an’ feel just like it; but we’d
-like to be with somebody who could do ’em if he wanted to. We like
-ladies that’s all ladies, but then we like men that’s all men, too.
-Aunt Alice is a good deal like an angel, I think, and you--well, you
-ain’t. An’ we don’t want to be with angels all the time until we’re
-angels ourselves.”
-
-Mr. Burton turned over suddenly and contemplated the back of the
-lounge, while Budge continued:
-
-“We don’t want you to get to be an angel, so what I want to know is,
-how to make you well. Don’t you think if I borrowed papa’ horse and
-carriage an’ took you ridin’ you’d feel better? I know he’d lend ’em
-to me if I told him you were goin’ to drive.”
-
-“And if you said you would go with me to take care of me?” suggested
-Mr. Burton.
-
-“Y--e--es,” said Budge, as hesitatingly as if such an idea had never
-occurred to him. “An’ don’t you think that up to the top of Hawksnest
-Rock an’ out to Passaic Falls would be the nicest places for a sick
-man to go? When you got tired of ridin’ you could stop the carriage
-an’ cut us a cane, or make us whistles, or even send us in swimming in
-a brook somewhere if you got tired of us.”
-
-“H’m!” grunted Mr. Burton.
-
-“An’ you might take fings to eat wif you,” suggested Toddie, “an’
-when you got real tired and felt bad you might stop an’ have a little
-picnic. I fink dat would be dzust de fing for a man wif de toofache.
-And we could help you, lotsh.”
-
-“I’ll see how I feel after dinner,” said Mr. Burton. “But what are you
-going to do for me between now and then, to make me feel better?”
-
-“We’ll tell you storiezh,” said Toddie. “Dem’s what sick folks alwayzh
-likesh.”
-
-“Very well,” said Mr. Burton. “Begin right away.”
-
-“Aw wight,” said Toddie. “Do you wantsh a sad story or a d’zolly one?”
-
-“Anything. Men with the toothache can stand nearly anything. Don’t draw
-on your imagination too hard.”
-
-“Don’t never draw on no madzinasuns,” said Toddie; “I only draws on
-slatesh.”
-
-“Never mind. Give us the story.”
-
-“Well,” said Toddie, seating himself in a little rocking-chair, and
-fixing his eyes on the ceiling, “guesh I’ll tell about AbrahammynIsaac.
-Onesh de Lord told a man named Abraham to go up the mountain an’ chop
-his little boy’s froat open an’ burn him up on a naltar. So Abraham
-started to go do it. An’ he made his little boy Isaac, dat he was
-going to chop and burn up, carry de kindlin’ wood he was goin’ to set
-him a-fire wif. An’ I want to know if you fink dat wazh very nysh of
-him?”
-
-“Well, no.”
-
-“Tell you what,” said Budge, “you don’t ever catch me carryin’ sticks
-up the mountain, even if my papa wants me to.”
-
-“When they got up dere,” said Toddie, “Abraham made a naltar an’ put
-little Ikey on it, an’ took a knife an’ was goin’ to chop his froat
-open, when a andzel came out of hebben, an’ said: ‘Stop a-doin’
-dat!’s So Abraham stopped, an’ Ikey skooted. An’ Abraham saw a sheep
-caught in de bushes, an’ he caught him an’ killed him. He wasn’
-goin’ to climb way up a mountain to kill somebody an’ not have his
-knife bluggy a bit. An’ he burned de sheep up. An’ den he went home
-again.”
-
-“I’ll bet you Isaac’s mamma never knew what his papa wanted to do with
-him,” said Budge, “or she’d never let her little boy go away in the
-mornin’. Do you want to bet?”
-
-“N--no, not on Sunday,” said Mr. Burton. “Now, suppose you little boys
-go out of doors and play for a while, while uncle tries to get a nap.”
-
-The boys accepted the suggestion and disappeared. Half an hour later,
-as Mrs. Burton was walking home from church under escort of old
-General Porcupine, and enduring with saintly fortitude the general’s
-compliments upon her management of the children, there came screams of
-fear and anguish from the general’s own grounds, which the couple were
-passing.
-
-“Who can that be?” exclaimed the general, his short hairs bristling
-like the quills of his titular godfather. “We have no children.”
-
-“I think I know the voices,” gasped Mrs. Burton, turning pale.
-
-“Bless my soul!” exclaimed the general, with an accent which showed
-that he was wishing the reverse of blessings upon souls less needy than
-his own. “You don’t mean----”
-
-“Oh, I do!” said Mrs. Burton, wringing her hands. “Please hurry!”
-
-The general puffed and snorted up his gravel walk and toward the
-shrubbery, behind which was a fishpond from which direction the sound
-came. Mrs. Burton followed in time to see her nephew Budge help his
-brother out of the pond while the general tugged at a large crawfish
-which had fastened its claw upon Toddies finger. The fish was game,
-but, with a mighty pull from the general, and a fiendish shriek from
-Toddie, the fish’s claw and body parted company, and the general, still
-holding the latter tightly, staggered backward and himself fell into
-the pond.
-
-[Illustration: THE GENERAL FELL INTO THE POND]
-
-“Ow--ow--ow!” howled Toddie, clasping the skirt of his aunt’s mauve
-silk in a ruinous embrace, while the general floundered and snorted
-like a whale in dying agonies and Budge laughed as merrily as if the
-whole scene had been provided especially for his entertainment. Mrs.
-Burton hurried her nephews away, forgetting, in her mortification, to
-thank the general for his service, and placing a hand over Toddie’s
-mouth.
-
-“It hurts!” mumbled Toddie.
-
-“What did you touch the fish at all for?” asked Mrs. Burton.
-
-“It was a little baby-lobster,” sobbed Toddie, “an’ I loves little
-babies--all kinds of ’em--an’ I wanted to pet him. An’ den I wanted
-to grop him.”
-
-“Why didn’t you do it?” demanded the lady.
-
-“’Cauzh he wouldn’t grop,” said Toddie. “He isn’t all gropped yet.”
-
-True enough, the claw of the fish still hung at Toddies finger, and
-Mrs. Burton spoiled a pair of four-button kids in detaching it, while
-Budge continued to laugh. At length, however, mirth gave place to
-brotherly love, and Budge tenderly remarked:
-
-“Toddie dear, don’t you love Bother Budgie?”
-
-“Yesh,” sobbed Toddie.
-
-“Then you ought to be happy,” said Budge, “for you’ve made him awful
-happy. If the fish hadn’t caught you, the general couldn’t have pulled
-him off, an’ then he wouldn’t have tumbled into the pond, an’ oh,
-my--didn’t he splash bully!”
-
-“Then you’s got to be bited wif a fiss yourself,” said Toddie, “an’
-make him tumble in again, for me to laugh ’bout.”
-
-“You’re two naughty boys,” said Mrs. Burton. “Is this the way you take
-care of your sick uncle?”
-
-“We did take care of him!” exclaimed Toddie. “Told him a lovaly Bible
-story, an’ you didn’t, an’ he wouldn’t have had not no Sunday at all
-if I hadn’t done it. An’ we’ goin’ to take him widin’ dis afternoon.”
-
-Mrs. Burton hurried home, but it seemed to her that she had never met
-so many inquiring acquaintances during so short a walk. Arrived at
-last, she ordered her nephews to their room, and flung herself in tears
-beside her husband, murmuring:
-
-“Harry!”
-
-And Mr. Burton, having viewed the ruined dress with the eye of
-experience, uttered the single word:
-
-“Boys!”
-
-“What am I to do with them?” asked the unhappy woman.
-
-Mr. Burton was an affectionate husband. He adored womankind, and
-sincerely bemoaned its special grievances; but he did not resist the
-temptation to recall his wife’s announcement of five days before, so he
-whispered:
-
-“Train them.”
-
-“I----”
-
-Mrs. Burton’s humiliation by her own lips was postponed by a heavy
-footfall, which, by turning her face, she discovered was that of her
-brother-in-law, Tom Lawrence, who remarked:
-
-“Tender confidences, eh? There’s nothing like them, if you want to be
-happy. But Helen’s pretty well to-day, and dying to have her boys with
-her, and I’m even worse with a similar longing. You can’t spare them,
-I suppose?”
-
-The peculiar way in which Tom Lawrence’ eyes danced as he awaited a
-reply would, at any other time, have aroused all the defiance in Alice
-Burton’s nature; but now, looking at the front of her beautiful dress,
-she only said:
-
-“Why--I suppose--we might spare them for an hour or two.”
-
-“You poor, dear Spartan,” said Tom, with genuine sympathy, “You shall
-be at peace until their bedtime.”
-
-And Mrs. Burton found occasion to rearrange the bandage on her
-husband’s face so as to whisper in his ear:
-
-“Thank heaven!”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI
-
-
-The boys returned to the Burtons fast asleep, Budge in his father’s
-arms, and Toddie’s head pillowed on the shoulder of faithful Mike.
-No sound was heard from either of them until the next morning, when
-finding that they slept later than usual, their aunt went to their
-chamber to arouse them. She found Budge sitting up in bed rubbing his
-eyes with one hand, while with the other he shook his brother, and
-elicited some ugly grunts of remonstrance.
-
-“Tod!” exclaimed Budge; “Tod! Wake up! We ain’t where we was!”
-
-“Don’t care if we ain’t,” drawled Toddie. “I’zhe in--a--nicer playsh.
-I’zhe in--big candy-shop.”
-
-“No, you ain’t,” said Budge, trying to pick his brother’s eyes open.
-“You’re at Aunt Alice’, and when you went to sleep you was at mamma’s
-house.”
-
-“Pw--w--w--!” cried Toddie, arising slowly; “you’s a hateful bad boy,
-Budgie. I was a-dreamin’ I was in a candystore, an’ gotted all my
-pockets full an’ bof hands full, too, an’ now you’s woketed me up
-an’ my hands is all empty, an’ I hazn’t got any pocket-clozhezh on me
-at all.”
-
-“Well, next time you have a dream I won’t wake you at all, even if you
-have nightmares an’ dream awful things. Say, Aunt Alice, how do folks
-dream, I wonder? What makes everythin’ go away an’ be somethin’
-else?”
-
-“It is the result of indistinct impressions upon a semi-dormant brain,”
-said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Oh!”
-
-Mrs. Burton thought she detected a note of sarcasm in her nephew’s
-exclamation, but he was so young and he seemed so meek of countenance
-that she abandoned the idea. Besides, her younger nephew had been
-saying “Aunt Alish--Aunt Alish--Aunt Alish--Aunt Alish--” as rapidly as
-he could with an increasing volume of voice. Mrs. Burton found time in
-which to say:
-
-“What?”
-
-“Did you say pwessin’ on bwains made us dweam fings, Aunt Alish?”
-
-“Ye--es,” Mrs. Burton replied. “That is the----”
-
-“Well, then,” interrupted Toddie. “Jzust you sit down on my head an’
-make dat candy-shop come back again, won’t you?”
-
-“Say, Aunt Alice,” said Budge, “do you know that lots of times I don’t
-know any more than I knew before.”
-
-“I don’t understand you, Budge.”
-
-“Why, when folks tell me things--I mean, I ask them how things are,
-an’ they tell me, an’ then I don’t know any better than I did before.
-Is that the way it is with grown folks?”
-
-[Illustration: “DREAMIN’ I WAS IN A CANDY-STORE”]
-
-Mrs. Burton reflected for a moment and recalled many experiences very
-much like that of Budge--experiences, too, in which she had forced the
-same impassive face that Budge wore, as she pretended to comprehend
-that which had been imperfectly explained. She remembered, too, how
-depressing had been the lack of understanding, and how strong was the
-sense of injury at being required to act as if her comprehension had
-been perfectly reached. Whether the topics had been the simple affairs
-of childhood, or the social, æsthetic and religious instructions of
-adult age, Mrs. Burton, like every one else, had been told more than
-she understood, and misunderstood many things she had been told, and
-blamed her friends and the world for her blunders and for lack of
-appreciation of the intentions to which proper and fostering training
-had never been applied. Was it possible that she was repeating with her
-nephews the blunders which others had committed while attempting to
-shape her own mind?
-
-The thought threw Mrs. Burton into the profoundest depths of reverie,
-from which she was aroused by Budge, who asked:
-
-“Aunt Alice, do you see the Lord?”
-
-“No, Budge!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, with a start. “Why do you ask?”
-
-“Why,” said Budge, “you was lookin’ so hard through the window, an’
-right toward where you couldn’t see anythin’ but sky; an’ your eyes
-had such an ever-so-far look in them that I thought you must be lookin’
-straight at the Lord.”
-
-“If you sees Him,” said Toddie, “I wiss you’d ask him to send that
-dream back again to-night; to push on my bwains an’ make it come
-back, and then let me stay asleep until I eat up all de candy I gotted
-into my pockets an’ hands.”
-
-The appearance of the chambermaid, who came to dress the boys for
-breakfast, put an end to the conversation, but Mrs. Burton determined
-that it should be renewed at the earliest opportunity, or, rather, that
-her discoveries of her own shortcomings as a teacher of children should
-lead to an early and practical reformation.
-
-The fit of mental abstraction into which this resolution threw her was
-the cause of a silence which puzzled her husband considerably, for
-he could plainly see by her face that no affair merely matured was
-at the bottom of her reticence, and that what in men would be called
-temper was equally absent from her heart. In fact, the result upon Mrs.
-Burton’s face and actions was so beneficial that the lady’s husband
-determined to plead toothache as an excuse to remain at home for a day
-and look at her.
-
-The mere suggestion, however, elicited from Mrs. Burton the mention of
-so many absolute necessities which could be procured only in the city
-and by her husband, that he departed by a train even earlier than the
-one upon which he usually travelled, and with sensations very like
-those of a man who has been forcibly ejected from a residence.
-
-Then Mrs. Burton led her nephews into the sitting-room, seated herself,
-placed an arm tightly about each little boy, and said: “Children, is
-there anything that you would very much like to know?”
-
-“Yesh,” answered Toddie, promptly. “I’d like to know what we’s going to
-have for dinner to-day?”
-
-“And I,” said Budge, “would like to know when we’re all goin’ for a
-ride again.”
-
-“I don’t mean silly things of that sort,” said Mrs. Burton, “but----”
-
-“Ain’t silly fings!” said Toddie. “Deysh what makesh ush happy.”
-
-Mrs. Burton made a mental note of the justice of the rebuke, and of its
-connection with the subject of which her heart was already full; but
-she was still Alice Mayton Burton, a lady whose perceptions could not
-easily prevent her from following the paths which she had already laid
-out for herself, so she replied:
-
-“I know they are; but I want to teach you whatever you want to learn
-about matters of more importance.”
-
-“Do you mean that you want to play school?” asked Budge. “Papa don’t
-think school is healthy for children in warm weather, an’ neither do
-we.”
-
-“No, I don’t want to play school, but I want to explain to you some of
-the things which you say you don’t understand, though people tell you
-all about them. It makes Aunt Alice very unhappy to think that her dear
-little nephews are troubled about understanding things when they want
-so much to do so. Aunt Alice was once a little bit of a girl, and had
-just the same sort of trouble, and she remembers how uncomfortable it
-made her.”
-
-“Oh!” said Budge, changing his position until he could look into his
-aunt’s eyes. “Did you ever have to wonder how big moons got to be
-little again, an’ then have big folks tell you they chopped up the old
-moons an’ made stars of them, when you knew the story must be an awful
-whopper?”
-
-“Yes,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“An’ didn’t you ever wunner what dinner was goin’ to be made of, an’
-den have big folks just say ‘never mind’?” asked Toddie.
-
-“Yes,” said Mrs. Burton, giving Toddie a light squeeze. “I’ve been
-through that, too.”
-
-“Why!” said Budge, “you was awful little once, wasn’t you? Well, did
-you ever have to wonder where God stood when he made the world out of
-nothing?”
-
-“An’ did you ever have to fink how the sweet outsides got made onto
-date-stones an’ peach-pits?” asked Toddie.
-
-“Oh, yes.”
-
-“Then tell us all about ’em.”
-
-“You asked me about dreams this morning, dear,” said Mrs. Burton,
-addressing Budge, “and----”
-
-“I know I did,” said Budge; “but I’d rather know about dates an’
-peaches now. I can’t dream any more till I go to bed; but I can buy
-dates inside of a quarter of an hour, if you’ll give me pennies. Oh,
-say--I’ll tell you what--you send me to buy some, and then you can
-explain about ’em easier. It’ so much nicer to see how things are than
-to have to think about ’em.”
-
-“I can’t spare you now, dear, to go after dates. I may not have time to
-talk to you when you get back.”
-
-“Oh, we’d manage not to bother you. I think we could find out all
-about ’em ourselves, if we had enough of ’em to do it with.”
-
-“Very well,” said Mrs. Burton, compromising reluctantly. “I’ll tell you
-about something else at present; then I will give you some money to
-purchase dates, and you may study them for yourselves.”
-
-[Illustration: “WONDER HOW BIG MOONS GOT TO BE LITTLE AGAIN”]
-
-“All right. Now tell us what makes your dog Terry always run away
-whenever we want him?”
-
-“Because you tease him so much, whenever you catch him that you
-have made him hate you,” said Mrs. Burton, delighted at the double
-opportunity to speak distinctly and impart a lesson in humanity.
-
-“Now, you’s gettin’ ready to say ‘Don’t,’” Toddie complained. “Can’t
-little boysh lyne noffin’ dat hazn’t got any mean old ‘Don’t’ in it?”
-
-“I hope so, poor little fellow,” said Mrs. Burton, repenting at once of
-her success.
-
-“What would you like to know?”
-
-Toddie opened his mouth and eyes, hung his head to one side, meditated
-for two or three minutes, and said:
-
-“I--I--I--I--I wantsh to know whatsh de reason dat when a little boy
-hazh been eatin’ lotsh of buttananoes he can’t eat any more, when he’s
-been findin’ out all the whole time how awful good dey is?”
-
-“Because his little stomach is full, and when one’s stomach is full it
-knows enough to stop wanting anything.”
-
-“Then tummuks is gooses. I wiss I was my tummuk dzust once; I’d show it
-how never to get tired of buttananoes.”
-
-“What I want to know,” said Budge, “is how we have dreams, ’cause I
-don’t know any more about it than I did before, after what you told me
-this morning.”
-
-“It’s a hard thing to explain, dear,” said Mrs. Burton, as she
-endeavored to frame a simple explanation. “We think with our brain,
-and when we sleep our brain sleeps too, though sometimes it isn’t as
-sleepy as the rest of our body; and when it is a little wakeful it
-thinks the least bit, but it can’t think straight, so each thought gets
-mixed up with part of some other thought.”
-
-“That’s the reason I dreamed last night that a cow was sittin’ in your
-rockin’-chair readin’ an atlas,” said Budge. “But what made me think
-about cows an rockin-chairs an’ atlases at all?”
-
-[Illustration: “A COW READIN’s AN ATLAS”]
-
-“That’s one of the things which we can’t explain about dreams,” said
-Mrs. Burton. “We seem to remember something that we have seen at some
-other time, and our memories jumble against each other, when two or
-three come at a time.”
-
-“Then,” said Toddie, “some night when I’ze asleep I’m goin’ to fink
-about buttananoes an’ red-herrin’ an’ ice-cream an’ourgrass an’
-hard-boiled eggs an’ candy an’ fried hominy, an’ won’t I hazh a
-lovaly little tea-party in bed, if all my finks djumbles togevver? An’
-I won’t djeam about any uvver little boy wif me at all.”
-
-“When I dream about dear little dead brother Phillie,” said Budge,
-“don’t I do anythin’ but just remember him? Don’t he come down from
-heaven and see me in my bed?”
-
-“I imagine not, dear,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Then what makes him look so white and sunny, an’ smile so sweet, an’
-flap his dear little white wings close to my face so I can touch ’em?”
-
-“I suppose it is because--because you have thought of him looking that
-way,” said Mrs. Burton, drawing Budge closer to her side to hide the
-wistfulness of his face from her eyes. “You’ve seen pictures of angels
-all in white, with graceful wings, and you’ve thought of little brother
-Phil looking that way.”
-
-“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Budge, burying his face in his aunt’s robe and
-bursting into tears. “I wish I hadn’t tried to find out about dreamin’!
-I don’t ever want to learn about anything else. If dear little angel
-Phillie is only a piece of a think in my brain when I’m asleep, then
-there isn’t nothin’ that’s anythin’. I always thought it was funny
-that he began to go away as soon as I began to wake up.”
-
-“Cows don’t go ’way when I wakes up from dreamin’ about ’em,” said
-Toddie. “I ’members ’em all day, an’ sees ’em whenever I don’t want
-to.”
-
-Mrs. Burton could not repress a smile, while Budge raised his head, and
-said:
-
-“Well, I suppose it’s no good to be unhappy. We’d better have fun than
-think about things that’s awful sad. Can’t you think of some new kind
-of a play for us?”
-
-“I’m afraid I can’t, at this minute,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Suppose you play store,” said Budge, “an’ keep lots of nice things,
-like cakes an’ candies, an’ let us buy ’em of you for pins. Oh, yes!
-an’ you give us the pins to buy ’em with.
-
-“An’ do it ’fore it getsh dinner-time,” said Toddie, “so de fings you
-sell us can get out of the way in time, so we can get empty to get
-fullded up at dinner.”
-
-“I can’t do that,” said Mrs. Burton, “because it would give you an
-excuse to eat between meals.”
-
-“Then tell us stories,” Budge suggested; “no, make a menagerie for us.
-Oh, no!--I’ll tell you what, make believe it was our house, an’ you
-was comin’ to visit us, an’ we’ll bring you up cake an’ coffee to
-rest yourself with.”
-
-“I’m afraid I smell some little mice!” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“In the mouse-twap?” inquired Toddie. “Oh! get ’em for ush to play wif!”
-
-“Tell you what,” said Budge. “You can tell us that funny story about
-the man that had dogs for doctors.”
-
-“Dogs for doctors?” echoed Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Yes,” said Budge; “don’t you know? He’s in the Bible book.”
-
-“He may be,” said Mrs. Burton, rapidly passing in review such biblical
-dogs as she could remember, “but I don’t know where.”
-
-“Why, don’t you know?” continued Budge. “He was that man that was so
-poor that he had to eat crumbs, an’ papa don’t think he had any syrup
-with ’em, either, like we do when the cook gives us the crumbs out of
-the bread-box.”
-
-“Is it possible you mean Lazarus?” exclaimed Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Yesh,” said Toddie, “dat was him. ’Twasn’t de Lazharus that began to
-live again after he was buried, though. He didn’t have no dogs.”
-
-“The poor man you mean,” said Mrs. Burton, “was very sick and very
-poor, so that he had to be fed with the scraps that a rich man named
-Dives left at his own table. But the Lord saw him and knew what
-troubles he was having, and determined that the poor man should be
-happy after he died, to make up for the trouble he had when he was
-alive. So when poor Lazarus died the Lord took him right into heaven.”
-
-“Nobody has to eat table-scraps there, do they?” said Budge. “But say,
-Aunt Alice, what do they do in heaven with things that’ left at the
-table? Isn’t it wicked to throw them away up there?”
-
-“Should fink they’d cut a hole in the floor of hebben an’ grop de
-scraps down froo, for poor people,” said Toddie. “When I gets to be an
-andzel, an’ gets done my dinners, I’m goin’ to get up on the wall
-an’ froe the rest over down into the world. Only I must be careful not
-to grop off myself an’ tumble into the wylde again.”
-
-“What I want to know is,” said Budge, “how do they get things to eat
-for the angels? Do they have grocery stores, an’ butcher shops, an’
-milk wagons up there?”
-
-“Gracious, no!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, her fingers instinctively moving
-toward her ears. “The Lord provides food in some way that we don’t
-understand. But this poor Lazarus, after he became an angel, looked
-out of heaven, and saw, away off in the bad place, the rich man whose
-leavings he used to eat, for the rich man had died too. And the rich
-man begged Abraham----”
-
-“I fought his name was Lazharus?” said Toddie.
-
-“The poor man was named Lazarus,” said Mrs. Burton; “but when he
-reached heaven he found good old Abraham there, and Abraham took care
-of him. And the rich man begged Abraham to send Lazarus just to dip
-his finger in water and rub it on the rich man’ lips, for he was so
-thirsty.”
-
-“Why didn’t he get a drink for himself?” asked Budge. “Can’t rich
-people wait on themselves even when they die?”
-
-“There is no water in the bad place,” said Mrs. Burton. “That was why
-he was so thirsty.”
-
-“Goodnesh!” said Toddie. “How does little boysh make mud-pies there?”
-
-“I hope no little boys ever go there,” said Mrs. Burton. “But Abraham
-said: ‘Not so, my friend. You had your good things while you were
-alive; now you must get along without anything. But poor Lazarus must
-be made happy, for he had very bad times when he was alive!’”
-
-[Illustration: “HOW DO THEY GET THINGS TO EAT FOR THE ANGELS?”]
-
-“Is that the way it is?” Budge asked. “Then I guess Abraham will
-have to do lots for me when I die, for I have a good many bad times
-nowadays. Then what did the bothered old rich man do about it?”
-
-“He told Abraham that he had some brothers that were alive yet, and
-he wished that an angel might be sent to tell them to be good, so as
-never to have to come to that dreadful place. But Abraham told him
-it wouldn’t be of any use to send an angel. They had good books and
-preachers that would tell them what to do.”
-
-“An’ did he have to go on bein’ thirsty forever?” asked Budge.
-
-“I suppose so,” said Mrs. Burton, with a shudder, and realizing why it
-was that the doctrine of eternal torment was not more industriously
-preached from the pulpit.
-
-“G’won!” remarked Toddie.
-
-“That is all there is of it,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Why you didn’t tell us a fing about the doctor-dogs,” complained
-Toddie.
-
-“Oh, those are not nice to tell about,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“I fink deysh dzust de nicest fing about de story. Whenever I getsh a
-sore finger, I goes an’ sits down by the back door an’ calls Terry.
-But I don’t fink Terry’s a very good doctor, ’cauzh he don’t come
-when I wants him. One of dese days when I getsh lotsh of soresh, like
-Jimmy McNally when he had the smallpox, an’ Terry will want to see me
-awful, I won’t let him see me a bit. Tell us ’nother story.”
-
-The sound of harp and fiddle came to Mrs. Burton’s rescue, and the boys
-hurried to the front of the house to behold two very small Italians,
-who were doing their utmost to teach adults the value of peace and
-quietness.
-
-Budge and Toddie listened to the whole repertoire of the couple,
-encored every selection, bestowed in payment the pennies their aunt
-gave them for the purpose, and proposed to follow the musicians on
-their route through the town, but their aunt stopped them.
-
-“What do those little fellows do with all the pennies they get?” asked
-Budge. “Do they buy candy with them?”
-
-“What lotsh of candy they must have!” exclaimed Toddie.
-
-“I suppose they take their money home to their papas and mammas,” said
-Mrs. Burton, “for they are very poor people. Perhaps the parents of
-those two little boys are sick at this very moment, and are looking
-anxiously for the return of their little boys who are so far away.”
-(Mem. The first report of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to
-Children had not been published at that time.)
-
-“An’ do the little boys make all that music dzust ’cauzh dey love
-somebody?” asked Toddie.
-
-“Yes, dear.”
-
-“But folks always gets paid by the Lord for doin’ things for other
-folks, don’t they, Aunt Alice?” asked Budge.
-
-“Yes, dear old fellow,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“One fing nysh about dem little boysh,” said Toddie, “ish dat, when
-their papas an’ mammas is sick, dere isn’t anybody to tell ’em not to
-get deir shoes dusty. Dzust see how dey walksh along in the middle of
-the street, kickin’ up de dust, an’ nobody to say ‘Don’t!’s to ’em,
-an’ nobody skrong enough to spynk ’em for it when dey gets home. I
-wiss I was a musicker.”
-
-“Well, they’re gone now,” sighed Budge, “’an we want something else
-to make us happy. Say, Aunt Alice, why don’t you have a horse an’
-carriage like mamma, so that you could take us out ridin’?”
-
-“Uncle Harry isn’t rich enough to keep good horses and carriages,” said
-Mrs. Burton, “and he doesn’t like poor ones.”
-
-“Why, how much does good horses cost? I think Mr. Blanner’s horses are
-pretty good, but papa says they’d be dear at ten cents apiece.”
-
-“I suppose a good horse costs three or four hundred dollars,” said Mrs.
-Burton.
-
-“My--y--y!” exclaimed Budge. “That’ more money than it costs our
-Sunday-school to pay for a missionary! Which is goodest--horses or
-missionaries?”
-
-“Missionaries, of course,” said Mrs. Burton, leaving the piazza, with a
-dim impression that she had, during the morning, answered a great many
-questions with very slight benefit to any one.
-
-The boys cared for themselves until luncheon, and then returned
-with rather less appetite than was peculiar to them. The new siege
-of questioning which their aunt had anticipated was postponed; each
-boy’s mind seemed to be in the reflective, rather than the receptive,
-attitude.
-
-After luncheon they hastily disappeared, without any attempt on the
-part of their aunt to prevent them, for Mrs. Burton had arranged
-to make, that afternoon, one of the most important of calls. Mrs.
-Congressman Weathervane had been visiting a friend at Hillcrest, and
-Mrs. Weathervane’s mother and Mrs. Burton’s grandmother had been
-schoolday acquaintances, and Mrs. Mayton would have come from the
-city to pay her respects to the descendant of the old friend of
-the family, but some of the infirmities of age prevented. And Mrs.
-Mayton instructed her daughter to call upon Mrs. Weathervane as a
-representative of the family, and Mrs. Burton would have lost her right
-hand or her new spring hat rather than disregard such a command. So she
-had hired a carriage and devised an irreproachable toilet, and recalled
-and tabulated everything she had ever heard about the family of the
-lady who had become Mrs. Weathervane.
-
-The carriage arrived, and no brace of boys dashed from unexpected
-lurking-places to claim a portion of its seats. The carriage rolled
-off in safety, and Mrs. Burton fell into an impromptu service of
-praise to the kind power which often blesses us when we least expect
-to be blessed. The carriage reached the house and the terrible Mrs.
-Weathervane turned out to be one of the most charming of young women,
-before whose sunny temperament Mrs. Burton’s assumed dignity melted
-like the snow of May, and her store of venerable family anecdotes
-disappeared at once from the memory which had guarded them jealously.
-
-[Illustration: THE SQUEAK OF THE VIOLIN AND THE WAIL OF A BADLY PLAYED
-WIND INSTRUMENT]
-
-But joy is never unalloyed in this wicked world. While the couple were
-chatting merrily, and Mrs. Weathervane was insisting that Mrs. Burton
-should visit her at Washington during the session, and Mrs. Burton was
-trying to persuade Mrs. Weathervane to accept the Burton hospitality
-for at least a day or two, there arose under the window the squeak of
-violin and the wail of some badly played wind instrument.
-
-“Those wretched little Italians!” exclaimed Mrs. Weathervane. “For
-which of our sins, I wonder, are we condemned to listen to them?”
-
-“If they come as punishment for sins,” said Mrs. Burton, “how wicked I
-must be, for this is my second experience with them to-day. They were
-at my house for half an hour this morning.”
-
-“And you are sweet of disposition this afternoon?” said Mrs.
-Weathervane. “Oh! I must spend a day or two with you, and take some
-lessons in saintly patience.”
-
-Mrs. Burton inclined her head in acknowledgment, and Mrs. Weathervane
-approached some other topic, when the violin under the window gave vent
-to a series of terrible groans of anguish, while the wind-instrument,
-apparently a flute, shrieked discordantly in three notes an octave
-apart from each other.
-
-“An attempt to execute something upon one string, I suppose,” said
-Mrs. Weathervane, “and the execution is successful only as criminal
-executions are. What should be done to the little wretches? And yet
-one can’t help giving them money; did you see the story of their
-terrible life in the newspapers this week? It seems they are hired in
-Italy by dreadful men, who bring them here, torture them into learning
-their wretched tunes and then send them out to play and beg. They are
-terribly whipped if they do not bring home a certain sum of money every
-day.”
-
-“The poor little things!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton. “I’m glad that I gave
-them a good many pennies this morning. I must have had an intuition of
-their fate, for I’m certain I had no musical enjoyment to be paid for.
-They can hardly be as old as some children in nurseries, either.”
-
-“No, indeed,” said Mrs. Weathervane, going to the window. “The elder
-of these two boys cannot be more than six, while the younger may be
-four; and the older looks so sad, so introspective! The younger--poor
-little fellow--has only expectancy in his countenance. He is looking
-up to all the windows for the pennies that he expects to be thrown to
-him. He has probably not had so hard an experience as his companion,
-for his instrument is only a common whistle. Think of the frauds which
-their masters practise upon the tender-hearted! The idea of sending out
-a child with a common whistle on the pretense of making music.”
-
-“It’s perfectly dreadful!” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Then to think what the parents of some of these children may have
-been,” continued Mrs. Weathervane. “The older of this couple has
-really many noble lines in his face, did not the long-drawn agony of
-separation and abuse inscribe deeper ones there. The smaller one,
-vilely dirty as he is, has a very picturesque head and figure. He is
-smiling now. Oh! what wouldn’t I give if some artist could catch his
-expression for me!”
-
-“Really,” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, approaching the window; “I hadn’t
-noticed so many charms about them, but I shall be glad to have them
-pointed out to me. Mercy!”
-
-“What can be the matter?” murmured Mrs. Weathervane, as her visitor
-fell back from the window and dropped into a chair.
-
-“They’re my nephews!” gasped Mrs. Burton. “Oh, what shall I do with
-those dreadful children?”
-
-“Stolen from home?” inquired Mrs. Weathervane, discerning a romance
-within reaching distance.
-
-“No--oh, no!” said Mrs. Burton. “I left them at home an hour or two
-ago. I can’t imagine why they should have taken this freak, unless
-because boys will be dreadful, no matter what is done for them. I
-suppose,” she continued, hurrying to the window, “that Budge has his
-uncle’s violin, which I think is fully as dear to its owner as his
-wife. Yes, he has it! Boys!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, appearing at the
-piazza-door, “go directly home.”
-
-At the sound of their aunt’s voice the boys looked up with glad smiles
-of recognition, while Budge exclaimed, “Oh, Aunt Alice! we’ve played at
-lots of houses, an’ we’ve got nearly a dollar. We told everybody we
-was playin’ to help Uncle Harry buy a horse an’ carriage!”
-
-“Go home!” repeated Mrs. Burton. “Go by the back road, too. I am going
-myself right away. Be sure that I find you there when I return.”
-
-Slowly and sadly the amateurs submitted to the fateful decree and moved
-toward home, while Mrs Weathervane bestowed a sympathetic kiss upon
-her troubled visitor. A great many people came to doors and windows
-to see the couple pass by, but what was public interest to a couple
-whose motive had been rudely destroyed? So dejected was their mien as
-they approached the Burton mansion, and so listless was their step,
-that the dog Terry, who was on guard at the front door, gave only an
-inquiring wag of his tail, and did not change his position as the boys
-passed over the door-mat upon which he lay. A moment or two later a
-carriage dashed up to the door, and Mrs. Burton descended, hurried into
-the house, and exclaimed:
-
-“How dared you to do such a vulgar, disgraceful thing?”
-
-“Well,” said Budge, “that’s another of the things we don’t understand
-much about, even after we’re told. We thought we could be just as good
-to you an’ Uncle Harry as dirty little Italian boys is to their papas
-an’ mammas, an’ when we tried it, you made us go straight home.”
-
-“Dzust the same fing as saying ‘Don’t’s at us,” Toddie complained.
-
-“An’ after we got a whole lot of money, too!” said Budge. “Papa says
-some big men don’t get more than a dollar in a day, an’ we got most a
-dollar in a little bit of a while. It’s partly because we was honest,
-though, I guess, an’ told the troof everywhere--we told everybody that
-we wanted the money to help Uncle Harry to buy a horse an’ carriage.”
-
-[Illustration: UNCLE HARRY’S FRANTIC EXAMINATION OF HIS BELOVED VIOLIN]
-
-Uncle Harry himself, moved by his aching tooth, had returned from
-New York in time to hear, unperceived, the last portion of Budge’s
-explanation, after which he heard the remainder of the story from
-his wife. His expression as he listened, his glance at his nephews,
-and his frantic examination of his beloved violin, gave the boys to
-understand how utter is sometimes the failure of good intentions to
-make happy those persons for whose benefit they are exerted. The somber
-reflections of the musicians were unchanged by anything which occurred
-during the remainder of the afternoon, and when they retired, it was
-with a full but sorrowful heart that Budge prayed: “Dear Lord, I’ve
-been scolded again for tryin’ to do somethin’ real nice for other
-people. I guess it makes me know something about how the good prophets
-felt. Please don’t let me have to be killed for doin’ good. Amen.”
-
-And Toddie prayed: “Dee Lord, dere’ some more ‘Don’t’s been said to me,
-an’ I fink Aunt Alice ought to be ’hamed of herself. Won’t you please
-make her so? Amen.”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII
-
-
-“That,” murmured Mrs. Burton on Tuesday morning, as she prepared to
-descend to the breakfast table, “promises a pleasant day.” Then, in a
-louder tone, she said to her husband: “Harry, just listen to those dear
-children singing! Aren’t their voices sweet?”
-
-“’Sing before breakfast, cry before dark,’” quoted Mr. Burton, quoting
-a popular saying.
-
-“For shame!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton. “And when they’re singing sweet
-little child-hymns too! There! they’re starting another.”
-
-Mrs. Burton took the graceful listening attitude peculiar to ladies,
-her husband stood in the military position of “attention,” and both
-heard the following morceau:
-
- “I want--to be--an an--gel
- An’ with--the an--gels stand;
- A crown--upon--my fore--head
- A hop--per in--my hand.”
-
-“Hopper--h’m!” said Mr. Burton. “They refer to the hind-leg of a
-grasshopper, my dear. The angelic life would be indeed dreary to those
-youngsters without some such original plaything.”
-
-“You ought to be ashamed of yourself!” said the lady. “I hope you won’t
-suggest any such notion to them. I don’t believe they would have had
-so many peculiar views about the next world if some one hadn’t exerted
-an improper influence--you and your brother-in-law Tom Lawrence, their
-father, for instance.”
-
-“Well,” said Mr. Burton, “if they are so susceptible to the influence
-of others, I suppose you have them about reformed in most respects? You
-have had entire charge of them for seven days.”
-
-“Six--only six,” corrected Mrs. Burton, hastily. “I wish----”
-
-“That there really was one day less for them to remain?” said Mr.
-Burton, looking his wife full in the face.
-
-Mrs. Burton dropped her eyes quickly, trying first to turn in search of
-something she did not want, but her husband knew his wife’s nature too
-much to be misled by this ruse. Putting as much tenderness in his voice
-as he knew how to do, he said:
-
-“Little girl, tell the truth. Haven’t you learned more than they?”
-
-Mrs. Burton still kept her eyes out of range of those of her husband,
-but replied with composure:
-
-“I have learned a great deal, as one must when brought in contact with
-a new subject, but the acquired knowledge of an adult is the source of
-new power, and of much and more knowledge to be imparted.”
-
-Mr. Burton contemplated his wife with curiosity which soon made place
-for undisguised admiration, but when he turned his face again to the
-mirror he could see in its expression nothing but pity. Meanwhile the
-cessation of the children’s songs, the confused patter of little feet
-on the stair, and an agonized yelp from the dog Terry, indicated that
-the boys had left their chamber. Then the Burtons heard their own
-door-knob turned, an indignant kick which followed the discovery that
-the door was bolted, and then a shout of:
-
-“Say!”
-
-“What’s wanted?” asked Mr. Burton.
-
-“I want to come in,” answered Budge.
-
-“Me, too,” piped Toddie.
-
-“What for?”
-
-A moment of silence ensued, and then Budge answered:
-
-“Why, because we do. I should think anybody would understand that
-without asking.”
-
-“Well, we bolted the door because we didn’t want any one to come in. I
-should think anybody could understand that without asking.”
-
-“Oh! Well, I’ll tell you what we want to come in for; we want to tell
-you something perfectly lovely.”
-
-“Do you wish to listen to an original romance, my dear?” asked Mr.
-Burton.
-
-“Certainly,” replied the lady.
-
-“And break your resolution to teach them that our chamber is not a
-general ante-breakfast gathering-place?”
-
-“Oh, they won’t infer anything of the kind if we admit them just once,”
-said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“H’m--we won’t count this time,” quoted Mr. Burton from “Rip Van
-Winkle,” with a suggestive smile, which was instantly banished by a
-frown from his wife. Mr. Burton dutifully drew the bolt and both boys
-tumbled into the room.
-
-“We were both leaning against the door,” explained Budge; “that’s why
-we dropped over each other. We knew you’d let us in.”
-
-Mr. Burton gave his wife another peculiar look which the lady affected
-not to notice as she asked:
-
-“What is the lovely thing you were going to tell us?”
-
-“Why----”
-
-“I--I--I--I--I----” interrupted Toddie.
-
-[Illustration: BOTH BOYS TUMBLED INTO THE ROOM]
-
-“Tod, be still!” commanded Budge. “I began it first.”
-
-“But I finked it fyst,” expostulated Toddie.
-
-[Ilustration: BOTH BOYS TUMBLED INTO THE ROOM]
-
-“I’ll tell you what, then, Tod--I’ll tell ’em about it an’ you worry
-’em to do it. That’ fair, isn’t it?” and then, without awaiting the
-result of Toddie’s deliberations Budge continued:
-
-“What we want is a picnic. Papa’ll lend you the carriage, and we’ll get
-in it and go up to the Falls, and have a lovely day of it. That’s just
-the nicest place I ever saw. You can swing us in the big swing there,
-an’ take us in swimmin’, an’ row us in a boat, an’ buy us lemonade
-at the hotel, an’ we can throw stones in the water, an’ paddle, an’
-catch fish, an’ run races. All these other things--not the first ones
-I told you about--we can do for ourselves, an’ you an’ Aunt Alice can
-lie on the grass under the trees, an’ smoke cigars, an’ be happy,
-’cause you’ve made us happy. That’s the way papa does. An’ you must
-take lots of lunch along, ’cause little boys gets pretty empty-feeling
-when they go to such places. Oh, yes--an’ you can throw Terry in the
-water an’ make him swim after sticks--I’ll bet he can’t get away there
-without our catching him.”
-
-“But de lunch has got to be lots,” said Toddie, “else dere won’t be
-any fun--not one bittie. An’ you’ll take us, won’t you? We’ze been
-dreadful good all mornin’. I’ze singed Sunday songs until my froat’s
-all sandy.”
-
-“All what?” asked Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Sandy,” replied Toddie. “Don’t you know how funny it feels to rub sand
-between your hands when you hazhn’t got djuvs on? If you don’t, I’ll go
-bring you in some.”
-
-“Your aunt will take your word for it,” said Mr. Burton, as his wife
-did not respond.
-
-“An’ we’ll be awful tired after the picnic’ done,” said Budge, “an’
-you can hold us in your arms in the carriage all the way back. That’s
-the way papa an’ mamma does.”
-
-“Thank you,” said Mr. Burton. “That will be an inducement. And it
-explains why your papa can make a new coat look old quicker than any
-other man of my acquaintance.”
-
-“And why your mother always has a skirt to clean or mend,” said Mrs.
-Burton.
-
-“It’s all told now, Tod,” said Budge. “Why don’t you worry ’em?”
-
-Toddie clasped his aunt’s skirts affectionately, and said, in most
-appealing tones:
-
-“You’e a-goin’ to, izhn’t you?”
-
-“Papa says it was always easier for you to say ‘yes’s than ‘no,’”
-remarked Budge; “an’----”
-
-“A fine reputation your brother-in-law gives you,” remarked Mrs.
-Burton.
-
-“An’ I once heard a lady say she thought you said ‘yes’s pretty easy,”
-continued Budge, addressing his aunt. “I thought she meant something
-that you said to Uncle Harry, by the way she talked.” Mrs. Burton
-flushed angrily, but Budge continued: “An’ you ought to be as good
-to us as you are to him, ’cause he’s a big man, an’ don’t have to be
-helped every time he wants any fun. Besides, you’ve got him all the
-time, but you can only have us four days longer--three days besides
-to-day.”
-
-“Another paraphrase of Scripture--application perfect,” remarked Mr.
-Burton to his wife. “Shall we go?”
-
-“Can you?” asked the lady, suddenly grown radiant.
-
-“I suppose--oh, I know I can,” replied Mr. Burton, assuming that the
-anticipation of a day in his society was the sole cause of his wife’s
-joy.
-
-Mrs. Burton knew his thoughts but failed to correct them, guilty
-though she felt at her neglect. That she would be practically relieved
-of responsibility during the day was the cause of her happiness. The
-children had always preferred the companionship of their uncle to that
-of his wife; she had at times been secretly mortified and offended at
-this preference, but in the week just ending she had entirely lost this
-feeling.
-
-The announcement that their host and hostess thought favorably of the
-proposition was received by the boys with lively manifestations of
-delight, and for two hours no other two persons in the state were more
-busy than Budge and Toddie. Even their appetites gave way under the
-excitement and their stay at the breakfast table was of short duration.
-
-Budge visited his father and arranged for the use of the carriage
-while Toddie superintended the packing of the eatables until the cook
-banished him from the kitchen, and protected herself from subsequent
-invasion by locking the door. Then both boys suggested enough extra
-luggage to fill a wagon and volunteered instructions at a rate which
-was not retarded by the neglect with which their commands were received.
-
-When the last package was taken into the carriage the dog Terry was
-helped to a seat and the party started. They had been _en route_ about
-five minutes, when Budge remarked:
-
-“Uncle Harry, I want a drink.”
-
-“Uncle Harry,” said Toddie, “I’m ’most starved to deff. I didn’t have
-hardly any brekspup.”
-
-“Why not?” asked Mrs. Burton. “Wasn’t there plenty on the table?”
-
-“I doe know,” Toddie replied, looking inquiringly into his aunt’s face
-as if to refresh his memory.
-
-“Weren’t you hungry at breakfast-time?” continued Mrs. Burton.
-
-“I--I--I--I--why, yesh--I mean my tummuk wazh hungry, but my toofs
-wasn’t--dat’ de way it wazh. An’ I guesh what I’d better have now is
-sardines an’ pie.”
-
-“Ethereal creature!” exclaimed Mr. Burton, giving Toddie a cracker.
-
-“I didn’t remember that I was hungry,” said Budge, “but Tod’s talking
-about it reminds me. An’ I’d like that drink, too.”
-
-Budge also received some crackers and the carriage was stopped near a
-well. The descent of Mr. Burton from the carriage compelled the dog
-Terry to change his base, which operation was so impeded by skillful
-efforts on the part of the boys that Terry suddenly leaped to the
-ground and started for home, followed by a remonstrance from Toddie,
-while Budge remarked:
-
-[Illustration: TODDIE DRANK ABOUT TWO SWALLOWS OF WATER]
-
-“He won’t ever go to heaven, Terry won’t. He don’t like to make people
-happy.”
-
-Away went the carriage again and it had reached the extreme outskirts
-of the town when Toddie said:
-
-“I’m awful fursty.”
-
-“Why didn’t you drink when Budge did?” demanded Mr. Burton.
-
-“’Cauzh I didn’t want to,” replied Toddie. “I izhn’t like old
-choo-choos dat getsh filled up dzust ’cause dey comes to a watering
-playzh. I only likesh to dwink when I’zhe fursty; an’ I’zhe fursty
-now.”
-
-Another well was approached; Toddie drank about two swallows of water,
-and replied to his aunt’s declaration that he couldn’t have been
-thirsty at all by the explanation:
-
-“I doezn’t hold very much. I izhn’t like de horsesh, dat can dwink
-whole pails full of water, an’ den hazh room for gwash. But I guesh
-I’zhe got room for some cake.”
-
-“Then I’ll give you another cracker,” said Mr. Burton.
-
-“Don’t want one,” said Toddie. “Cwacker couldn’t push itself down as
-easy as cake.”
-
-“I do believe,” said Mrs. Burton, “that the child’s animal nature
-has taken complete possession of him. Eating and mischief has been
-the whole of his life during the week, yet he used to be so sweetly
-fanciful and sensitive.”
-
-“Children’s wits are like the wind, my dear,” said Mr. Burton. “’Thou
-canst not tell whence it cometh nor whither it goeth’; you set your
-sails for it, and behold it isn’t there, but when you’re not expecting
-it, down comes the gale.”
-
-“A gale!” echoed Budge. “That’s what we’re goin’ to have to-day.”
-
-“Izn’t neiver,” said Toddie. “Goin’ to hazh a picnic.”
-
-“Well, gales and picnics is the same thing,” said Budge.
-
-“No, dey izhn’t. Galesh is kind o’s rough, but picnics is nysh. Galesh
-is like rough little boysh, like you, but picnics is nysh, like dear
-little sister-babies.”
-
-“Oh, dear,” sighed Budge, “we haven’t seen that baby for two days.
-Let’s go right back an’ look at her.”
-
-“Budge, Budge!” remonstrated Mrs. Burton; “try to be content with what
-you have, and don’t always be longing for something else. You can go to
-see her when we return.”
-
-“I can see her wivout goin’ back,” said Toddie. “I can see anybody I
-wantsh to, dzust whenever I pleash.”
-
-“Don’t be silly, Toddie,” remonstrated Mrs. Burton, in spite of a
-warning nudge from her husband.
-
-“How do you see them, Toddie?” asked Mr. Burton.
-
-“Why, I duzst finks a fink about ’em, an’ den dey comezh wight inshide
-of my eyezh, an’ I sees ’em. I see lotsh of peoples dat-a-way. I
-sees AbrahammynIsaac, an’ Bliaff, an’ little Dave, an’ de Hebrew
-children, an’ Georgie Washitton hatchetin’ down his papa’s tree,
-whenever I finks about ’em. Oh, dere goezh a wabbit! Letsh stop an’
-catch him.”
-
-“Oh, no, let him go,” said Mr. Burton. “Perhaps he’s going home to
-dinner, and his family are all waiting at the table for him.”
-
-“Gwacious!” said Toddie, opening his eyes very wide and keeping silence
-for at least two minutes. Then he said, “I saw a wabbit family eatin’
-dinner once. Dey had a little bittie of a table, an’ little bitsh of
-chairzh, an’ de papa wabbit ashkted a blessin’ an’----”
-
-“Toddie, Toddie, don’t tell fibs!” said Mrs. Burton, as she again felt
-herself touched by her husband’s elbow.
-
-“Izn’t tellin’ fibs! An’ a little boy wabbit said, ‘Papa, I wantsh a
-dwink.’s So his papa took a little tumbler, dzust about as big as a
-fimble, an’ held a big leaf up sideways so de dew would run off into
-de tumbler, an’ he gived it to the little boy wabbit. An’ when dey
-got done dinner, de mamma wabbit gave each of de little boy wabbits
-a strawberry to suck. An’ none of ’em had to be told to put on de
-napkins, ’cause dey only had one dwess, and dat was a color dat didn’t
-show dyte, like mamma says I ought to have.”
-
-“Were all the little rabbits boys--no girls at all?” asked Mr. Burton.
-
-“Yesh, dere was a little sister baby, but she wazh too little to come
-to de table, so de mamma wabbit held her in her lap and played ‘Little
-Pig Went to Market’s on her little bits of toes. Den de sister-baby got
-tired, an’ de mamma wabbit wocked it in a wockin’-tsair, an’ sung to
-it ’bout----
-
- “Papa gone a-huntin’,
- To get a little wabbit-skin
- To wap a baby buntin--baby wabbit--in.”
-
-Den de baby-wabbit got tired of its mamma, an’ got down an’ cwept
-around on itsh handsh an’ kneezh, an’ didn’t dyty its djess at all
-or make its kneezh sore a bit, ’cauzh dere wazh only nice leaves an’
-pitty fynes for it to cweep on, instead of ugly old carpets. Say, do
-you know I was a wabbit once?”
-
-“Why, no,” said Mr. Burton. “Do tell us about it.”
-
-“Harry!” remonstrated Mrs. Burton.
-
-“He believes it, my dear,” explained her husband. “He has his ’weetly
-fanciful’ mood on now, that you were moaning for a few moments ago. Go
-on, Toddie.”
-
-“Why, I was a wabbit, and lived all by myself in a hole froo de bottom
-of a tree. An’ sometimes uvver wabbits came to see me, an’ we all sat
-down on our foots an’ bowled our ears to each uvver. Dogsh came to
-see me sometimes, but I dzust let dem wing de bell an’ didn’t ask ’em
-to come in. An’ den a dzentleman came an’ asked me to help him make
-little boysh laugh in a circus. So I runned around de ring, and picked
-up men an’ fings wif my tchunk----”
-
-“Rabbits don’t have trunks, Toddie.”
-
-“I know it, but I tyned into a ephalant. An’ I got lotsh of hay an’
-fings wif my tchunk, an’ folks gave me lotsh of cakes an’ candies to
-see me eat ’em wif my tchunk, an’ I was so big I could hold ’em all,
-an’ I didn’t have any mamma ephalant to say, ‘Too muts cake an’ candy
-will make you sick, Toddie.’”
-
-“Anything more?” asked Mr. Burton. “We can stand almost anything.”
-
-“Well, I gotted to be a lion den, and had to roar so much dat my froat
-gotted all sandy, so I got turned into a little boy again, an’ I was
-awful hungry. I guesh ’twas djust now.”
-
-“Can you resist that hint, my dear?” Mr. Burton asked. His wife, with a
-sigh, opened a basket and gave a piece of cake to Toddie, who remarked:
-
-“Dish izh to pay me for tellin’ de troof about all dem fings, izhn’t
-it?”
-
-About this time the party reached Little Falls, and Budge said:
-
-“I suppose lunch’ll be the first thing?”
-
-“No,” said Mrs. Burton; “we won’t lunch until our usual hour.”
-
-“But you can have all the drinks you want,” said Mr. Burton. “There’s a
-whole river full of water.”
-
-“Oh, I don’t feel as if I’d ever be thirsty again,” said Budge. “But I
-wish Terry was here to swim in after sticks. You do it, won’t you? You
-play dog an’ I’ll play Uncle Harry an’ throw things to you.”
-
-By this time Toddie had sought the water’ edge, and, taking a stooping
-position, looked for fish. The shelving stone upon which he stood was
-somewhat moist and Toddie was so intent on his search that he stooped
-forward considerably. Suddenly there was heard a splash and a howl, and
-Toddie was seen in the river, in water knee-deep. To rescue him was the
-work of only a moment, but to stop his tears was no such easy matter.
-
-[Illustration: SUDDENLY HEARD A SPLASH AND A HOWL]
-
-“What is to be done?” exclaimed Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Take off his shoes and stockings and let him run barefooted,” said Mr.
-Burton. “The day is warm, so he can’t catch cold.”
-
-“Oh!” exclaimed Toddie, “Izh I goin’ to be barefoot all day? I wishes
-dish river wazh wight by our housh; I’d tumble in every day. Budgie,
-Budgie, if you wantsh fun dzust go tumble splash into de river.”
-
-But Budge had strolled away, and was tugging at some moss in a crevice
-of rock. Here his aunt found him, and he explained, toiling as he
-talked:
-
-“I thought--this--would make such--a--lovely cushion for--for you to
-sit on.”
-
-The last word and the final tug were concurrent and the moss gave way;
-so did Budge, and with a terrific scream, for a little snake had made
-his home under the moss, and was expressing indignation, in his own
-way, at being disturbed.
-
-“I won’t never do nothin’ for nobody again,” screamed Budge. “I’ll see
-that snake every time I shut my eyes, now.”
-
-“You poor, dear little fellow,” said Mrs. Burton, caressing him
-tenderly. “I wish Aunt Alice could do something to make you forget it.”
-
-“Well, you can’t, unless--unless, maybe, a piece of pie would do it. It
-wouldn’t do any harm to try, I s’pose?”
-
-Mrs. Burton hurried to unpack a pie, as her husband remarked that
-Budge was born to be a diplomatist. Looking suspiciously about, for
-fear that Toddie might espy Budge’s prescription, and devise some
-ailment which it would exactly suit, she discovered that Toddie was out
-of sight.
-
-“Oh, he’s gone, Harry! Hurry and find him. Perhaps he’s gone above the
-Falls. I do wish we had gone further down the river!”
-
-Mr. Burton took a lively double-quick up and along the bank of the
-river, but could see nothing of his nephew.
-
-After two or three minutes, however, above the roar of the falling
-water, he heard a shrill voice singing over and over again a single
-line of an old Methodist hymn,
-
- “Roar--ing riv--ers, migh--ty fountains!”
-
-Following the sound, he peered over the bank, and saw Toddie in a sunny
-nook of rocks just below the Falls, and in a very ecstasy of delight.
-He would hold out his hands as if to take the fall itself; then he
-would throw back his head and render his line with more force; then
-he would dance frantically about, as if his little body was unable to
-comfortably contain the great soul within it.
-
-Suddenly coming up the sands below the cliff appeared Mrs. Burton,
-whose apprehensions had compelled her to join in the search.
-
-“Oh, Aunt Alish!” exclaimed Toddie, discovering his aunt, and hurrying
-to grasp her hand in both of his own; “dzust see de water dance! Do you
-see all de lovely lights dat de Lord’s lit in it? Don’t you wiss you
-could get in it, an’ fly froo it, an’ have it shake itself all over
-you, an’ shake yourself in it, an’ shake it all off of you, an’ den
-fly into it aden? Deresh placesh like dis up in hebben. I know, ’cauzh
-I saw ’em--one time I did. An’ all the andzels staid around ’em, an’
-flew in an’ out, an’ froo an’ froo’s an’ laughed like everyfing!”
-
-Mr. Burton concealed all of himself but his eyes and hat to observe the
-impending conflict of ideas; but no conflict ensued, for Mrs. Burton
-snatched her nephew and kissed him soundly. But Toddie wriggled away,
-exclaiming:
-
-“Don’t do dat, or I’ll get some uvver eyes when I don’t want ’em.”
-
-How long Toddie’s ecstasy might have endured the Burtons never knew,
-for a clatter of horse-hoofs on the road attracted Mr. Burton, and,
-looking hastily back, he beheld one of his brother’s horses galloping
-wildly back towards Hillcrest, while, just letting go of a reinstrap,
-and enlivening the dust of the roadway, was the form of the boy Budge,
-whose voice rose shrilly above the thunder of the falling waters.
-
-[Illustration: BUDGE ENLIVENED THE DUST OF THE ROADWAY]
-
-Mr. Burton attempted first to catch the horse, but the animal shied
-successfully and had so clear a stretch of roadway before him that
-humanity soon had Mr. Burton’s heart for its own and he hurried to the
-assistance of Budge.
-
-“I--boo-hoo--was just goin’ to lead the--boo-hoo-hoo--horse down to
-water like--boo-hoo-hoo--ah--like papa does, when he--oh! how my elbow
-hurts!--just pulled away an’ went off. An’ I caught the strap to stop
-him, an’--oh! he just pulled me along on my mouth in the dirt about
-ten miles. I swallowed all the dirt I could, but I guess I’ve got a
-mouthful left.”
-
-Mr. Burton hurriedly unharnessed the other horse, and started, riding
-bareback, in search of the runaway, while his wife, who had intuitively
-scented trouble in the air, hurried up the cliff with Toddie, and
-led both boys to the shadow of the carriage, with instructions to be
-perfectly quiet until their uncle returned.
-
-“Can’t we talk?” asked Toddie.
-
-“Oh, not unless you need to for some particular purpose,” said Mrs.
-Burton, who, like most other people in trouble, fought most earnestly
-against any form of diversion which should keep her from the extremity
-of worry. “Can’t little boys’s mouths ever be quiet?”
-
-“Why, yes,” said Budge, “when there’ something in ’em to keep ’em
-still.”
-
-In utter desperation Mrs. Burton unpacked all the baskets and told the
-children to help themselves. As for her, she sought the roadside and
-gazed earnestly for her husband. Wearied at last by hope deferred she
-returned to the carriage to find that the boys had eaten all the pie
-and cake, drank the milk and ate the sugar which were to have formed
-part of some delicious coffee which Mr. Burton was to have made _à la
-militaire_, and had battered into shapelessness a box of sardines by
-attempting to open it with a stone.
-
-“You bad boys!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton. “Now what will your poor uncle
-have to eat when he comes back all tired, hungry, and thirsty and all
-because of your mischief, Budge.”
-
-“Why, we haven’t touched the crackers, Aunt Alice,” said Budge.”
-They’re what he gave us when we said we was awful hungry, an’ there’s
-a whole river full of water to drink, like he told us about when he
-thought we was thirsty.”
-
-The information did not seem to console Mrs. Burton, who ventured to
-the roadside with the feeling that she could endure it to know that
-her husband was starving if she could only see him safe back again. The
-moments dragged wearily on, the boys grew restive and then cross, and
-at about three in the afternoon, Mr. Burton reappeared. The runaway
-had nearly reached home, breaking a shoe _en route_, and his captor
-had found it necessary to seek a blacksmith. The horse he rode had
-evidently never been broken to the saddle, and many had been the jeers
-of the village boys at his rider’s apparent mismanagement. All he knew
-now was that he was ravenously hungry.
-
-“And the boys have eaten everything but the bread and crackers,” gasped
-Mrs. Burton. “I’ve not eaten a mouthful.”
-
-“Goodness!” exclaimed Mr. Burton, feeling the boys’s waist-belts;
-“didn’t they throw anything away?”
-
-“Only down our froats.” said Toddie.
-
-“Then I’ll go to the nearest hotel,” said the disappointed man,” and
-get a nice dinner.”
-
-“We’ll go too,” said Budge. “Pie an’ cake an’ all such things don’t
-fill people a bit on picnics.”
-
-“Then a little emptiness will be best for you,” said Mr. Burton. “You
-remain here with your aunt.”
-
-“Well, hurry up, then,” said Budge. “Here’s the afternoon half gone,
-Aunt Alice says, and you haven’t made us a whistle, or taken us in
-swimmin’, or let us catch fishes, or throwed big stones in the water
-for us, or anythin’.”
-
-Mr. Burton departed with becoming meekness, his nephew’s admonition
-ringing in his ears, while the boys hovered solemnly about their aunt
-until she exclaimed:
-
-“Why are you acting so strangely, boys?”
-
-“Oh, we feel kind o’s forlorn, an’ we want to be comforted,” said
-Budge.
-
-“Will you comfort poor Uncle Harry when he comes back?” asked Mrs.
-Burton.
-
-“Why, I heard him once tell you that you were his comfort,” said Budge;
-“and comforts oughtn’t to be mixed up if folks is goin’ to get all the
-good out of ’em; that’s what papa says.”
-
-Mrs. Burton kissed both nephews effusively and asked them what she
-could do for them.
-
-“I doe know,” said Toddie.
-
-Inspiration came to Mrs. Burton’s assistance and she said,
-
-“You may both do exactly as you please.”
-
-“Hooray!” shouted Budge.
-
-“An’ you izhn’t goin’ to say ‘Don’t!’s a single bit?” Toddie asked.
-
-“No.”
-
-“Oh!” exclaimed both brothers, in unison.
-
-Then they clasped hands and walked slowly and silently away. They even
-stopped to kiss each other, while Mrs. Burton looked on in silent
-amazement.
-
-Was this really the result of not keeping a watchful eye upon children?
-
-The boys rambled quietly along, sat down on a large rock, put their
-arms around each other and gazed silently at the scenery. They sat
-there until their uncle returned and their aunt pointed out the couple
-to him. Then the adults insensibly followed the example set by the
-juveniles, and on the banks of the river sweet peace ruled for an hour,
-until old Sol, who once stood still to look at a fight but never paused
-to contemplate humanity conquered by the tender influences of nature,
-warned the party that it was time to return.
-
-“It’s time to go, boys,” said Mr. Burton, with a sigh.
-
-The words snapped the invisible thread that had held the children in
-exquisite captivity, and they were boys again in an instant, though
-not without a wistful glance at the Eden they were leaving.
-
-“Now, Uncle Harry,” said Budge, “there’ always one thing that’s got to
-be done before a picnic an’ a ride is just right, an’ that is for me
-to drive the horses.”
-
-“An’ me to hold de whip,” said Toddie.
-
-“Oh, I think you’ve done your whole duty to-day--both of you,” said Mr.
-Burton, instinctively grasping his lines more tightly.
-
-“But we don’t,” said Budge, “an’ we know. Goin’ up the mountain papa
-always lets us do it an’ he says the horses always know the minute we
-take ’em in hand.”
-
-“I shouldn’t wonder. Well, here’s a hill; take hold!”
-
-Budge seized the reins, and Toddie took the whip from its socket. The
-noble animals at once sustained their master’s statement, for they
-began to prance in a manner utterly unbecoming quiet family horses.
-Mrs. Burton clutched her husband’s arm, and Mr. Burton prudently laid
-his own hand upon the loop of the reins.
-
-The crest of the hill was reached, Mr. Burton took the reins from the
-hand of his nephew, but Toddie made one final clutch at departing
-authority by giving the off horse a spirited cut. Tom Lawrence would
-never own a horse that needed a touch of the whip, though that emblem
-of authority always adorned his carriage. When, therefore, this
-unfamiliar attention greeted them the horse who was struck became
-gloriously indignant, and his companion sympathized with him and the
-heels of both animals shot high in the air and then, at a pace which
-nothing could arrest, the horses dashed down the rocky, rugged road.
-The top of a boulder, whose side had been cleanly washed, lay in the
-path of the carriage, and Mr. Burton gave the opposite rein a hasty
-twist about his hand as he tried to draw to the side of the road. But
-what was a boulder, that equine indignation should regard it? The stone
-was directly in front and in line of the wheels. Mrs. Burton prepared
-for final dissolution by clasping her husband tightly with one arm,
-while with the other she clutched at the reins. The boys started the
-negro hymn, “Oh, De Rocky Road to Zion,” the wheels struck the boulder,
-four people described curves in air and ceased only when their further
-progress was arrested by some bushes at the roadside. The carriage
-righted itself and was hurried home by the horses, while a party
-of pedestrians, two of whom were very merry and two utterly reticent,
-completed their journey on foot, pausing only to bathe scratched
-faces at a brookside. And when, an hour later, two little boys had
-been prepared for bed, and their temporary guardians were alternately
-laughing and complaining over the incidents of the day, a voice was
-heard at the head of the stairs, saying:
-
-[Illustration: FURTHER PROGRESS WAS ARRESTED]
-
-“Uncle Harry, are we going to finish the picnic to-morrow? ’Cause we
-didn’t get half through to-day. There’s lots of picnicky things that we
-didn’t get a chance to think about.”
-
-And another voice shouted:
-
-“An’ letsh take more lunch wif us. I’zhe been awful hungwy all day
-long!”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII
-
-
-“Only three more days,” soliloquized Mrs. Burton, when the departure
-of her husband for New York and the disappearance of the boys gave
-her a quiet moment to herself. “Three more days, and then peace--and
-a life-long sense of defeat! And by whom? By two mere infants--in
-years. I erred in not taking them singly. When they are together it’s
-impossible to take their minds from their own childish affairs long
-enough to impress them with larger sense and better ways. But I didn’t
-take them singly, and I have talked, and oh--stupidest of women!--I’ve
-blundered upon my husband for my principal listener. He does get along
-with them better than I do, and the exasperating thing about it is
-that he seems to do it without the slightest effort. How is it? They
-cling to him, obey him, sit by the roadside for an hour before train
-time just to catch the first glimpse of him, while I--am I growing
-uninteresting? Many women do after they marry, but I didn’t think
-that I”--here Mrs. Burton extracted a tiny mirror from a vase on the
-mantel--“that I could be made stupid by marrying a loving old merry
-heart like Harry!”
-
-Mrs. Burton scrutinized her lineaments intently. A wistful earnestness
-stole into her face as she studied it, and it softened every line.
-Suddenly but softly a little arm stole about her neck, and a little
-voice exclaimed:
-
-“Aunt Alice, why don’t you always look that way? There! Now you’re
-stoppin’ it. Big folks is just like little boys, ain’t they? Mamma
-says it’s never safe to tell us we’re good, ’cause we go an’ stop it
-right away.”
-
-“When did you come in, Budge? How did you come so softly? Have you been
-listening? Don’t you know it is very impolite to listen to people when
-they’re not talking to you? Why, where are your shoes and stockings?”
-
-“Why,” said Budge,” I took ’em off so’--so’ to get some cake for a
-little tea-party without makin’ a noise about it! You say our little
-boots make an awful racket. But say, why don’t you?”
-
-“Why don’t I what?” asked Mrs. Burton, her whole train of thought
-whisking out of sight at lightning speed.
-
-“Why don’t you always look like you did a minute ago? If you did, I
-wouldn’t ever play or make trouble a bit. I’d just sit still all the
-time, and do nothin’ but look at you.”
-
-“How did I look, Budge?” asked Mrs. Burton, taking the child into her
-arms.
-
-“Why, you looked as if--as if--well, I don’t ’zactly know. You looked
-like papa’ picture of Jesus’s mamma does, after you look at it a long
-time an’ nobody is there to bother you. I never saw anybody else look
-that way ’xcept my mamma, an’ when she does it I don’t ever say a
-word, else mebbe she’ll stop.”
-
-“You can have the cake you came for,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“I don’t want any cake,” said Budge, with an impatient movement. “I
-don’t want any tea-party. I want to stay with you, an’ I want you to
-talk to me, ’cause you’re beginnin’ to look that way again.” Here Budge
-nearly strangled his aunt in a tight embrace, and kissed her repeatedly.
-
-“You darling little fellow,” asked Mrs. Burton, while returning his
-caresses, “do you know why I looked as I did? I was wondering why you
-and Toddie love your Uncle Harry so much better than you love me, and
-why you always mind him and disobey me.”
-
-Budge was silent for a moment or two, then he sighed and answered:
-
-“’Cause.”
-
-“Because of what?” asked Mrs. Burton. “You would make me very happy if
-you were to explain it to me.”
-
-[Illustration: “WELL,” SAID BUDGE, “CAUSE YOU’RE DIFFERENT.”]
-
-“Well,” said Budge, “’cause you’re different.”
-
-“But, Budge, I know a great many people who are not like each other,
-but I love them equally well.”
-
-“They ain’t uncles and aunts, are they?”
-
-“No, but what has that to do with it?”
-
-“And they’re not folks you have to mind, are they?” continued Budge.
-
-“N----no,” said Mrs. Burton, descrying a dim light afar off.
-
-“Do they want you to do things their way?”
-
-“Some of them do.”
-
-“An’ do you do it?”
-
-“Sometimes I do.”
-
-“You don’t unless you want to, do you?”
-
-“No!”
-
-“Well, neither do I,” said Budge. “But when Uncle Harry wants me to do
-somethin’, why somehow or other I want to do it myself after a while.
-I don’t know why, but I do. An’ I don’t always, when you tell me to.
-I love you ever so much when you ain’t tellin’ me things, but when you
-are, then they ain’t ever what I want to do. That’s all I know ’bout
-it. ’Xcept, he don’t want me to do such lots of things as you do. He
-likes to see us enjoy ourselves; but sometimes I think you don’t.
-We can’t be happy only our way, an’ our way seems to be like Uncle
-Harry’, an’ yours ain’t.”
-
-Mrs. Burton mused, and gradually her lips twitched back into their
-natural lines.
-
-“There--you ’re stoppin’ lookin’ that way,” said Budge, sighing and
-straightening himself. “I guess I do want the cake an’ the tea-party.”
-
-“Don’t go, Budgie, dear,” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, clasping the boy
-tightly. “When any one teaches you anything that you want very much to
-know doesn’t it make you happy?”
-
-“Oh, yes--lots,” said Budge.
-
-“Well, then, if you try, perhaps you can teach Aunt Alice something
-that she wants very much to know.”
-
-“What!” exclaimed Budge. “A little boy teach a grown folks lady? I
-guess I’ll stay.”
-
-“I want to understand all about this difference between your Uncle
-Harry and me,” continued Mrs. Burton. “Do you think you minded him very
-well last summer?”
-
-“That’s too long ago for me to remember,” said Budge “But I didn’t ever
-mind him unless I wanted to, or else had to, an’ when I had to an’
-didn’t want to I didn’t love him a bit. I talked to papa about it when
-we got back home again, an’ he said ’twas ’cause Uncle Harry didn’t
-know us well enough an’ didn’t always have time to find out all about
-us. Then they had a talk about it--papa and Uncle Harry did, in the
-library one day. I know they did, ’cause I was playin’ blocks in a
-corner, an’ I just stopped a-playin’ an’ listened to ’em. An’ all
-at once papa said, ‘Little pitchers!’s an’ said I’d oblige him very
-much if I’d go to the store and buy him a box of matches. But I just
-listened a minute after I went out of the room, until I heard Uncle
-Harry say he’d been a donkey. I knew he was mistaken about that, so I
-went back an’ told him he hadn’t ever been any animals but what’s in
-a menagerie, an’ then they both laughed an’ went out walkin’, an’
-I don’t know what they said after that. Only Uncle Harry’s been awful
-good to me ever since, though sometimes I bother him when I don’t mean
-to.”
-
-Mrs. Burton released one arm from her nephew and rested her head
-thoughtfully upon her hand. Budge looked up and exclaimed:
-
-“There! You’re looking that way again. Say, Aunt Alice, don’t Uncle
-Harry love you lots an’ lots when you look so?”
-
-Mrs. Burton recalled evidence of such experiences, but before she could
-say so a small curly head came cautiously around the edge of the door,
-and then it was followed by the whole of Toddie, who exclaimed:
-
-“I fink you’s a real mean bruvver, Budgie! De tea-party’s been all
-ready for you an’ de cake till I had to eat up all de strawberries to
-keep de nasty little ants from eatin’ ’em. I yet up de cabbage-leaf
-plate dey was in, too, to keep me from gettin’ hungrier.”
-
-“There!” exclaimed Budge, springing from his aunt’s lap.” That’s just
-the way, whenever I’m lovin’ to anybody, somethin’ always goes and
-happens.”
-
-“Is that all you care for your aunt, Budge?” asked Mrs. Burton. “Is a
-tea-party worth more than me?”
-
-Budge reflected for a moment. “Well,” said he, “didn’t you cry when
-your tea-party was spoiled last week on your burfday? To be sure, your
-tea-party was bigger than ours, but then you’re a good deal bigger than
-we, too, an’ I haven’t cried a bit.”
-
-Mrs. Burton saw the point and was mentally unable to avoid it. The view
-was not a pleasant one, and grew more humiliating the longer it was
-presented. It was, perhaps, to banish it that she rose from her chair,
-brought from a closet in the dining-room some of the coveted cake and
-gave a piece to each boy, saying:
-
-“It isn’t that Aunt Alice cares so much for her cake, dears, that she
-doesn’t like you to have it between meals, but because it is bad for
-little boys to eat such heavy food excepting at their regular meals.
-There are grown people who were once happy little children, but now
-they are very cross all the while because their stomachs are disordered
-by having eaten when they should not, and eating things which are
-richer and heavier than their bodies can use.”
-
-“Well,” said Budge, crowding the contents of his mouth into his cheeks,
-“we can eat somethin’ plainer an’ lighter to mix up with ’em inside
-of us. I should think charlotte-russe or whipped cream would be about
-the thing. Shall I ask the cook to fix some?”
-
-“No! Exercise would be better than anything else. I think you had
-better take a walk.”
-
-“Up to Hawkshnesht Rock?” Toddie suggested.
-
-“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Budge. “An’ you come with us, Aunt Alice; perhaps
-you’ll look that way again; that way, you know, an’ I wouldn’t like to
-lose any of it.”
-
-[Illustration: PRETENDING TO BE HORSES]
-
-Mrs. Burton could not decline so delicate an invitation, and soon the
-trio were on the road, Mrs. Burton walking leisurely on the turf by
-the side, while the boys ploughed their way through the dust of the
-middle of the road, pretending to be horses and succeeding so far as to
-create a dust-cloud which no team of horses could have excelled.
-
-“Boys, boys!” shouted Mrs. Burton. “Is no one going to be company for
-me?”
-
-“Oh, I’ll be your gentleman,” said Budge.
-
-“I’ll help,” said Toddie, and both boys hurried to their aunt’s side.
-
-“Little boys,” said Mrs. Burton, gently, “do you know that your mamma
-and papa have to pay a high price for the fun you have in kicking up
-dust? Look at your clothes! They must be sent to the cleaner’s before
-they will ever again be fit to wear where respectable people can see
-you.”
-
-“Then,” said Budge, “they’re just right to give to poor little boys,
-and just think how glad they’ll be! I guess they’ll thank the Lord
-’cause we run in the dust.”
-
-“The poor little boys would have been just as glad to have them while
-they were clean,” said Mrs. Burton, “and the kindness would have cost
-your papa and mamma no more.”
-
-“Well, then--then--then I guess we’d better talk about something
-else,” said Budge, “an’ go ’long froo the woods instead of in the
-road. Oh--h--h!” he continued, kicking through some grass under the
-chestnut-trees by the roadside, “here’s a chestnut! Is it chestnut-time
-again already?”
-
-“Oh, no, that’s one of last year’s nuts.”
-
-“H’m!” exclaimed Budge; “I ought to have known that. It’s dreadfully
-old-fashioned.”
-
-“Old-fashioned?”
-
-“Yes; it’s full of wrinkles, don’t you see; like the face of Mrs.
-Paynter, an’ you say she’s old-fashioned.”
-
-“Aunt Alice,” said Toddie, “birch-trees izh de only kind dat wearzsh
-Sunday clothes, ain’t dey? Deyzh always all in white, like me and
-Budgie, when we goes to Sunday-school. Gwacious!” he exclaimed, as he
-leaned against one of the birches and examined its outer garments.
-“Deyzh Sunday trees awful; dish one is singin’ a song! Dzust
-come--hark!”
-
-Though somewhat startled at the range of Toddie’s imagination, and
-wondering what incentive it had on the present occasion, Mrs. Burton
-approached the tree, and solved the mystery by hearing the breeze
-sighing softly through the branches. She told Toddie what caused the
-sound, and the child replied:
-
-“Den it’s de Lord come down to sing in it, ’cauzh it’s got Sunday
-clothes on. Datsh it, izhn’t it?”
-
-“Oh, no, Toddie; the wind is only the wind.”
-
-“Why I always fought it wazh the Lord a-talkin’, when the wind blowed.
-I guesh somebody tolded me so, ’cauzh I fought dat before I had many
-uvver finks.”
-
-Up the mountain-road leisurely sauntered Mrs. Burton, while her nephews
-examined every large stone, boulder tree and hole in the ground _en
-route_.
-
-The top of the hill was gained at last and with a long-drawn “Oh!” both
-boys sat down and gazed in delight at the extended scene before them.
-Budge broke the silence by asking:
-
-“Aunt Alice, don’t you s’pose dear brother Phillie, up in heaven, is
-lookin’ at all these towns, an’ hills, an’ rivers, an’ things, just
-like we are?”
-
-“Very likely, dear.”
-
-“Well, then he can see a good deal further than we can. Do our spirits
-have new eyes put in ’em when they get up to heaven?”
-
-“I don’t know. Perhaps they merely have their sight made better.”
-
-“Why, does spirits take deir old eyes wif ’em to hebben, an’ leave all
-de rest part of ’em in de deader?” asked Toddie.
-
-Mrs. Burton realized that she had been too hasty in assuming knowledge
-of spiritual physiognomy, and she endeavored to retract by saying:
-
-“Spiritual eyes and bodily eyes are different.”
-
-“Does dust and choo-choo cinders ever get into spirit eyes, an’ make
-little boy andzels cry, and growed-up andzels say swear wordsh?” asked
-Toddie.
-
-“Certainly not. There’s no crying or swearing in heaven.”
-
-“Then what does angels do with the water in their eyes, when they hear
-music that makes ’em feel as if wind was blowin’ fro ’em?” asked Budge.
-
-Mrs. Burton endeavored to change the subject of conversation to one
-with which she was more familiar, by asking Budge if he knew that there
-were hills a hundred times as high as Hawksnest Rock.
-
-“Goodness, no! Why, I should think you could look right into heaven
-from the tops of them. Can’t you?”
-
-“No,” said Mrs. Burton, with some impatience at the result of her
-attempt.” Besides, their tops are covered with snow all the time, and
-nobody can get up to them.”
-
-“Then the little boy andzels can play snowballs on ’em wifout no cross
-mans comin’ up an’ sayin’, ‘Don’t!’” said Toddie.
-
-Mrs. Burton tried again:
-
-“See how high that bird is flying,” she said, pointing to a hawk who
-was soaring far above the hill.
-
-“Yes,” said Budge. “He can go up into heaven whenever he wants to,
-’cause he’s got wings. I don’t know why birds have got wings and little
-boys haven’t.”
-
-“Little boys are already hard enough to find when they’re wanted,” said
-Mrs. Burton. “If they had wings they’d always be out of sight. But what
-makes you little boys talk so much about heaven to-day?”
-
-“Oh, ’cause we’re up so much closer to it, I suppose,” said Budge,
-“when were on a high hill like this.”
-
-“Don’t you think it must be nearly lunching time?” asked Mrs. Burton,
-using, in despair, the argument which has seldom failed with healthy
-children.
-
-“Certainly,” said Budge. “I always do. Come on, Tod. Let’s go the
-quickest way.”
-
-The shortest way was by numerous short cuts, with which the boys seemed
-perfectly acquainted. One of these, however, was by a steep incline,
-and Budge, perhaps snuffing the lunch-basket afar off, descended so
-rapidly that he lost his balance, fell forward, tried to recover
-himself, failed, and slipped rapidly through a narrow path which
-finally ended in a gutter traversing it.
-
-“Ow!” he exclaimed as he picked himself up, and relieved himself of a
-mouthful of mud. “Did you see my back come up an’ me walk down the
-mountain on my mouth? I think a snake would be ashamed of himself to
-see how easy it was. I didn’t try a bit, I just went slip, slop, bunk!
-to the bottom.”
-
-“An’ you didn’t get scolded for dytyin’ your clothes, either.” said
-Toddie. “Let’ sing ‘Gloly, Gloly, Hallehelyah.”
-
-The subject of dirt upon juvenile raiment began to trouble the mind
-of Mrs. Burton. Could it be possible that children had a natural
-right to dirtier clothing than adults, and without incurring special
-blame? Was dirtiness sinful? Well, yes--that is, it was disgusting,
-and whatever was disgusting was worse in the eyes of Mrs. Burton than
-what was sinful. Could children be as neat as adults? Had they either
-the requisite sense, perception or the acquired habit of carefulness?
-Again Mrs. Burton went into a study of the brownest description, while
-the children improved her moments of preoccupation to do all sorts
-of things which would have seemed dreadful to their aunt but were
-delightful to themselves. At length, however, they reached the Burton
-dining-table, and managed a series of rapid disappearances for whatever
-was upon it.
-
-[Illustration: BUDGE LOST HIS BALANCE]
-
-“Aunt Alice,” said Budge, after finishing his meal, “what are you
-going to do to make us happy this afternoon?”
-
-“I think,” said Mrs. Burton,” I shall allow you to amuse yourselves.
-I shall be quite busy superintending the baking. Our cook has only
-recently come to us, you know, and she may need some help from me.”
-
-“I fought bakin’ wazh alwaysh in mornin’?” said Toddie. “My mamma says
-dat only lazy peoplesh bakesh in affernoonzh.”
-
-“The cook was too busily engaged otherwise this morning, Toddie,” said
-Mrs. Burton. “Besides, people bake mornings because they are compelled
-to; for, when they put bread to rise overnight, they must bake in the
-morning. But there is a new kind of yeast now that lets us make our
-bread whenever we want to, within a couple of hours from the time of
-beginning.”
-
-“Do you know, Aunt Alice,” said Budge, “that we can bake? We can--real
-nice. We’ve helped mamma make pies an’ cakes lots of times, only hers
-are big ones an’ ours are baby ones.”
-
-“I suppose I am to construe that remark as a hint that you would like
-to help me?” said Mrs. Burton. “If you will do only what you are told,
-you may go to the kitchen with me; but listen--the moment you give the
-cook or me the least bit of trouble, out you shall go.”
-
-“Oh, goody, goody!” shouted Toddie. “An’ can we have tea-parties on de
-kitchen-table as fast as we bake fings?”
-
-“I suppose so.”
-
-“Come on. My hands won’t be still a bittie, I wantsh to work so much.
-How many kindsh of pies is you goin’ to make?”
-
-“None at all.”
-
-“Gwacious! I shouldn’t fink you’d call it bakin’-day den. Izhn’t you
-goin’ to make noffin’ but ole nashty bwead?”
-
-“Perhaps I can find a way for you to make a little cake or some buns,”
-said Mrs. Burton, relenting.
-
-“Well, that would be kind o’s bakin’-day like; but my hands is gettin’
-still again awful fasht.”
-
-Mrs. Burton led the way to the kitchen, and the preparation of the
-staff of life was begun by the new cook, with such assistance as a
-small boy wedged closely under each elbow, and two inquiring faces
-hanging over the very edge of the bread-pan.
-
-“That don’t look very cakey,” remarked Budge. “She ain’t put any powder
-into it.”
-
-“This kind of bread needs no powder. Baking-powders are used only in
-tea-biscuit.”
-
-“When tea-biscuits goes in de oven deysh little bits of flat fings,”
-said Toddie--“deysh little bits of flat fings, but when dey comes out
-dey’s awful big an’ fat. What makes ’em bake big?”
-
-“That’s what the powder is put in for,” said Mrs. Burton. “They’d be
-little, tasteless things if it weren’t for the powder. Bridget, work
-some sweetening with a little of the dough, so the boys can have some
-buns.”
-
-Both boys escorted the cook to the pantry for sugar, and back again to
-the table, and got their noses as nearly as possible under the roller
-with which the sugar was crushed, and they superintended the operation
-of working it into the dough, and then Mrs. Burton found some very
-small pans in the center of which the boys put single buns which they
-were themselves allowed to shape. A happy inspiration came to Mrs.
-Burton; she brought a few raisins from the pantry and placed one upon
-the center of each tiny bun as it was made, and she was rewarded by a
-dual shriek of delight.
-
-“Stop, Toddie!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, suddenly noticing that Toddie
-was shaping his dough by rolling it vigorously between his hands, as
-little boys treat clay while attempting to make marbles. “If you press
-your dough hard it will never bake light in the world.”
-
-[Illustration: TWO INQUIRING FACES HANGING OVER THE BREAD-PAN]
-
-“You mean de hot won’t make it grow big?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“Datzh too baddy. It’h awful too baddy,” said Toddie “Dere won’t be as
-much of ’em to eat. Tell you what--put some powder in it to help the
-uvvr swelly stuff.”
-
-“I’m afraid that won’t do any good.”
-
-“Might twy it,” Toddie suggested. “Ah--h--h--Budgie’ makin’ some of my
-buns baldheaded.”
-
-“What do you mean?” Mrs. Burton asked.
-
-“He’s takin’ de raisins off de tops of ’em, an’ dat makes ’em
-baldheaded.”
-
-“I was only keepin’ ’em from lookin’ all alike,” explained Budge,
-hastily putting the raisins where they could not be affected by any
-future proceedings. “Don’t you see, Toddie, you’ll have two kinds of
-buns now?”
-
-“Don’t want two kindsh,” cried Toddie. “I’ze a good mind to cut you
-open an’ take dem heads back again.”
-
-Budge was reproved by his aunt, and Toddie was pacified by the removal
-of raisins from his brother’s buns to his own. Then some of the little
-pans were placed in the vacant space in the oven, and during the next
-fifteen minutes Mrs. Burton was implored at least twenty times to see
-if they weren’t almost done. When, finally baked, Toddie’s were as
-small as bullets and about as hard.
-
-“Put some powder in de rest of dem,” pleaded Toddie.
-
-“It wouldn’t do the slightest bit of good,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-Further entreaties led to a conflict between will and authority, after
-which Toddie sulked and disappeared, carrying one of his precious pans
-with him. When he returned the baking was over, and the oven-door was
-open.
-
-“Izhe a-goin’ to bake dis uvver one any how,” said Toddie, putting
-the single remaining pan into the oven and closing the door. “Say,
-Aunt Alice,” he continued, his good, nature returning, “now fix dat
-tea-party we was goin’ to have wif our own fings. You can come to the
-table wif us if you want to.”
-
-“Only, don’t you think she ought to bring somethin’ with her?” asked
-Budge. “That’ the way little boys’s tea-parties out of doors always
-are.”
-
-Mrs. Burton herself rendered a satisfactory decision upon this question
-by making a small pitcher of lemonade: the table was drawn as near the
-door as possible, to avoid the heat of the room; Budge escorted his
-aunt to the seat of honor, and, when all were seated, he asked:
-
-“Do you think these is enough things to ask a blessin’ over? Sometimes
-we do it, an’ sometimes we don’t, ’cordin’ to how much we’ve got.”
-
-Mrs. Burton rapidly framed a small explanatory lecture on the principle
-under-lying the custom of grace at meals; but whatever may have been
-its merits the boys never had an opportunity of judging, for suddenly
-a loud report startled the party, a piece of the stove flew violently
-across the room and broke against the wall, the stove-lids shivered
-violently and the doors fell open; the poker, which had lain on the
-stove, danced frantically, and a small pan of some sort of fat, such
-as some cooks have a fancy to be always doing something with but never
-do it, was shaken over and its burning contents began to diffuse a
-sickening odor. The cook dropped upon her knees, the party arose--Budge
-roaring, Toddie screaming, and Mrs. Burton very pale, while the cook
-gasped:
-
-“The wather-back’s busted!”
-
-Mrs. Burton disengaged herself from her clinging nephews and approached
-the range cautiously. There was no sign of water and the back of the
-range was undisturbed; even the fire was not disarranged.
-
-[Illustration: A LOUD REPORT STARTLED THE PARTY]
-
-“It isn’t the water-back,” said Mrs. Burton, “nor the fire. What could
-it have been?”
-
-“An’ I belave, mum,” said the cook, “that ’twas the dhivil, savin’
-yer prisince; an’, saints presarve us! I ’ve heerd at home as how he
-hated dese new ways of cookin’, because dheres no foine place for him
-to sit in the corner of, bad luck to him! It was the dhivil, sure, mum.
-Did iver ye schmell the loike av that?”
-
-Mrs. Burton snuffed the air, and in spite of the loathsome odor of
-burning grease she detected a strong sulphurous odor.
-
-“An’ he went and tookted my last bun wif him too,” complained Toddie,
-who had been cautiously approaching the oven in which he had placed
-his pan. “Bad ole debbil! I fought he didn’t have noffin but roasted
-peoples at hizh tea-parties!”
-
-The whole party was too much agitated and mystified to pursue their
-investigations further. The fire was allowed to die out and Mrs. Burton
-hurried up-stairs and to the front of the house with the children.
-
-Mr. Burton on his way home was met by his wife and nephews, and heard a
-tale which had reached blood-curdling proportions. His descent to the
-scene of the disaster was reluctantly consented to by his wife; but he
-was unable to discover the cause of the accident, and he succeeded in
-getting his hands shockingly dirty. He hurried to his bed-chamber to
-wash them, and in a moment he roared from the head of the stairs:
-
-“Boys, which of you has been up here to-day?”
-
-There was no response for a moment; then Budge shouted:
-
-“Not me.”
-
-Mrs. Burton looked inquiringly at Toddie, and the young gentleman
-averted his eyes. Then Mr. Burton hurried down-stairs, looked at both
-boys and asked: “Why did you meddle with my powder-flask, Toddie?”
-
-“Why--why--why, Aunt Alice wouldn’t put no powder in my buns to make
-’em light after I rolled ’em heavy--said ’twouldn’t do ’em no good.
-But my papa says ’tain’t never no harm to try, so I dzust wented and
-gotted some powder out of your brass bottle dat’s hanging on your gun,
-an’ I didn’t say nuffin’ to nobody, ’cauzh I wanted to s’prise ’em.
-An’ while I was waitin’ for it to get done, bad ole debbil came an’
-hookted it. Guesh it must have been real good else he wouldn’t have
-done it, ’cauzh he’s such a smart fief he can steal de nicest fings he
-wantsh--whole cakeshop windows full.”
-
-“How did you mix it with the dough?--how much did you take?” Mrs.
-Burton demanded.
-
-“Didn’t mix it at all,” said Toddie; “dzush pourded it on de pan azh
-full azh I could. You’d fink I’d have to, if you tried to eat one of
-my buns dat didn’t have no powder in. Gwacious! wasn’t dey hard? I
-couldn’t bite ’em a bit--I dzust had to swallow ’em whole.”
-
-“Umph!” growled Mr. Burton. “And do you know who the devil--the little
-devil was that--”
-
-“Harry!”
-
-“Well, my dear, the truth appears to be this; your nephew----”
-
-“Your nephew, Mr. Burton.”
-
-“Well, my--our nephew, put into the oven this afternoon about enough
-of gunpowder to charge a six-pounder shell, and the heat of the oven
-gradually became too much for it.”
-
-Toddie had listened to this conversation with an air of anxious
-inquiry, and at last timidly asked:
-
-“Wazhn’t it de right kind of powder? I fought it wazh, ’cauzh it makes
-everyfing else light when it goezh off.”
-
-“Do you suppose your method of training will ever prevail against that
-boy’s logic, my dear?” asked Mrs. Burton. “And if it won’t, what will?”
-
-“I won’t put so much in nexsht time,” said Toddie, “’cauzh ’tain’t no
-good to twy a fing an’ den have de tryin’ stuff go an’ take de fing
-all away from you an’ get so mad as to bweak stoves to bits an’ scare
-little boysh an’ Aunt Alishes ’most to deff.”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX
-
-
-“Ow, Ow, OW!” was the réveillé of the Burton family on the next
-morning, and it was sounded from the room of the juvenile guests.
-
-“Another fight, I suppose,” grunted Mr. Burton in his room, “and as
-I’m dressed I might as well go and see which one was whipped and which
-ought to be.”
-
-Arrived at his nephew’s room, Mr. Burton found Toddie curled up in the
-middle of the bed sound asleep, and his brother with his eyes shut, but
-wriggling restlessly.
-
-“What’s the matter, Budge?” asked Mr. Burton.
-
-“My side hurts, where I bunked it, stoppin’ in the gutter, when I slid
-down the mountain,” drawled Budge. “An’ the hard part of the bed comes
-up to it and hurts it. As soon as I find a soft part of the bed, the
-hard part begins to come up through it and hurt me.”
-
-“Suppose you were to turn and lie on the other side?”
-
-“I--why--I--then--I--” stammered Budge, arising slowly and rubbing
-his eyes, “then I wouldn’t have any soft parts to look for, an’ I
-wouldn’t have anythin’ to do.”
-
-“Oh, no,” Mr. Burton muttered, turning abruptly and quitting the room;
-“the faculty for hugging misery isn’t born in people; not at all! I’ll
-have to tell this to our parson. A lot of good people that need it
-might get a sound thrashing over somebody else’s shoulders.”
-
-At the breakfast table Budge ate quietly, but with characteristic
-American industry, before he said:
-
-“Aunt Alice, too much tea isn’t good for people, is it?”
-
-“Oh, no! It’s very bad.”
-
-“And one cup is enough for pretty much every one, isn’t it?”
-
-“I think so.”
-
-“Sometimes my papa drinks three or four.”
-
-“That must be when he has a headache.”
-
-“Oh, yes, ’tis. People need more then, don’t they?”
-
-“Yes, indeed!”
-
-“Well, don’t you think a sideache is as bad as a headache?”
-
-Mrs. Burton guessed the sequel, but refrained from replying.
-
-“An awful sideache,” Budge continued, “when a little boy’s side has
-been bumped real hard by a great big mountain side.”
-
-Mrs. Burton bit her upper lip and reached for Budge’s mug, which the
-young man accommodatingly pushed toward her, saying:
-
-“And I think when it’s a little boy that’ got to drink it ’cause he’s
-sick, there ought to be lots an’ lots of sugar in it, to keep it from
-being too strong.”
-
-[Illustration: “TOO MUCH TEA ISN’T GOOD FOR PEOPLE, IS IT?”]
-
-Budge’ mug was filled according to his liking, Mr. Burton’s eyes
-dancing over it so busily that they could not stop when Mrs. Burton
-accidentally detected them. A few moments of adult silence was the
-natural result, and the boys improved the opportunity to disappear
-without being questioned; after which Mr. Burton, starting for the
-city, gave shortly the monosyllable “No!” in reply to the question
-whether he should bring anything home.
-
-Mrs. Burton found herself soon in the depth of another inspection of
-her career as a manager of children, and began to realize that she
-was as faulty in being too indulgent as she was in being too severe.
-Recalling the many tricks of the children to overcome her rules, she
-could not remember a single one at which they had not succeeded, and
-the realization of this was as mortifying to her sense of duty as it
-was to her pride. To be firm when her sense of humor was touched was
-a phase of ability of which she found herself to be as destitute as
-people usually are; but the existence of such a failing she had never
-even imagined before, and it doubled her sense of responsibility
-and--humility.
-
-But the latter quality soon was lost in one which comes more naturally,
-and is always fully developed--pride. What wouldn’t she have given to
-have that breakfast-scene to manage again? To think that she, who had
-in every other department of life, discerned sly attempts afar off,
-and successfully circumvented them, should have been outwitted by two
-very small boys! Oh, for just one more attempt by either of them! Mrs.
-Burton instinctively bit her lip until pain caused her to stop. Upon
-this, at any rate, she was determined--she would not only prevent
-her nephews accomplishing their artfully laid purposes, but she would
-explain to them how dishonest such attempts were, and endeavor to shame
-them into ingenuousness.
-
-At this instant the sound of a wordy altercation, momentarily growing
-livelier, floated up from the kitchen windows, and Mrs. Burton started
-to act as arbitrator.
-
-“We want it. That’s why,” was heard from Budge, as Mrs. Burton entered
-the kitchen.
-
-“Want what?” asked the mistress of the house.
-
-“Why,” said Budge, his face lighting with the anticipation of
-assistance close at hand, “we’ve found a big nest full of eggs in the
-grass, a good way off, an’ we want to boil ’em and eat ’em, and I’ve
-asked Bridget over an’ over again for a pail to boil ’em in, and all
-she says is, ’Niver a bit.’”
-
-“Which she is perfectly right in saying,” said Mrs. Burton,” when, as
-I assume from what I overheard as I came in, you did not tell her what
-you wanted of the pail.”
-
-“Well, I couldn’t help remembering what you said to Uncle Harry the
-other evening--that you had the most utter contempt for people that
-always wanted to know about other people’s business. I don’t know what
-’utter contempt’s means, but I thought, from the way you said it, you
-meant folks who was always askin’ questions about what other folks was
-doin’.”
-
-Mrs. Burton hastily took a small pail from a shelf and gave it
-to Budge, who walked off while his aunt, recollecting her good
-resolutions, retired and wept despairingly. The idea of letting two
-small children eat a lot of eggs between meals! No one knew where they
-were or how many eggs they had; probably they had built a fire where
-no fire should be, and what damage they were threatening to property
-and life only Heaven knew. She wished herself within the councils of
-Heaven; she committed a dozen frightful heresies while she wondered,
-but came back by necessity to the virtue of resignation, for how to
-find her nephews would have puzzled a head more experienced than her
-own in the ways of small boys.
-
-[Illustration: “WHEN WE COOKED ’EM, WHAT DO YOU THINK?”]
-
-Her morning was spent in vague attempts to do something, and it was
-with satisfaction that she beheld her two nephews approaching by a
-road which led through woods and fields. The borrowed pail was not
-visible, but Mrs. Burton did not notice its absence. Toddie dropped
-dejectedly upon a large stone in the back yard, and Budge sauntered
-into the sitting-room with the air of a man of the world who had
-squeezed life’s orange and found it juiceless.
-
-“You’re safely back, are you?” asked Mrs. Burton, anxious to know what
-had happened, but fearing to ask.
-
-“Oh, yes, we’re back, but that don’t do us any good.”
-
-“Why, what can be the matter with my dear little Budge?”
-
-“A good deal,” sighed Budge. “There’ some awful funny things in this
-world, Aunt Alice, an’ they ain’t nice either.”
-
-“Tell me all about them, dear.”
-
-“Well, I was awful disappointed to-day. We found sixteen eggs in a
-nest, an’ I came all the way home to get somethin’ to cook ’em in,
-an’ I carried some salt an’ pepper with me to help ’em to taste nice,
-an’ when we cooked ’em, what do you think? There was a little chicken
-inside of each of ’em!”
-
-“Dis--gusting!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton.
-
-“I know it is,” said Budge; “an’ I guess you’d have thought so more
-yet if you’d been there when we opened ’em. You know how nice eggs
-smell when you open ’em? Well, those eggs didn’t even smell good a bit.”
-
-“Let’s talk of something else, Budge,” said Mrs. Burton, instinctively
-raising her handkerchief to her nose.
-
-“But I ain’t through yet,” said Budge. “I want to know why the little
-chickens didn’t come out of their shell to their mamma, instead of
-waiting to bother us?”
-
-“Because you scared their mamma away from them, I suppose, when you
-found the nest.”
-
-“Why, no, we didn’t. She just went away. We said ‘Chick, chick,
-chick!’s to her, an’ she just ran around an’ cackled, so we s’posed
-she’d got through with the nest, and we took what was in it to keep ’em
-from bein’ spoiled. Papa says eggs always spoil when they lie out in
-the sunshine. What do you s’pose that poor hen mamma’ll think when she
-comes walkin’ along that way some day an’ sees all her dear little
-children lyin’ around mussed up in the grass?”
-
-“She will probably think that some meddlesome little boys have
-been along that way, and haven’t cared for anything or anybody but
-themselves.”
-
-Budge looked up quickly into his aunt’ face, but finding neither humor
-nor sympathy there he sighed deeply and started to rejoin his brother.
-
-“Budge!” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-The child arrested his steps, and looked back inquiringly.
-
-“When you want anything, as, for instance, that pail to boil eggs in,
-the proper way to do is to ask for it honestly and if some grown person
-refuses to give it to you, you should be satisfied with the reasons
-they give and make no trouble about it. You ought to love what is right
-so much that you will be ashamed to get around it in some underhand
-way.”
-
-“Why, ’tain’t any underhand way to say just what I think, is it?” Budge
-asked. “Papa says folks ought always to be honest, and say just exactly
-what they mean, an’ I’m sure I always do it, but I like to say things
-the way that I think folks listen to ’em best. Ain’t that the way that
-you do?”
-
-Mrs. Burton could not say “No,” and would not say “Yes,” so she walked
-off and left her nephew master of the field, from which he himself soon
-retired in response to repeated shouts of “Budgie!” from his brother.
-
-“Oh, Budgie,” exclaimed Toddie, as the former rejoined him,” izhe got
-him! Oh, izhe got him! Ain’t you glad?”
-
-“Who you got?”
-
-“Got Terry!” exclaimed Toddie. “Got doggie Terry!”
-
-“Ow!” shouted Budge, clapping his hands and dancing about. “That’s the
-nicest thing I ever heard of! Just won’t we have fun? How did you catch
-him?”
-
-“Why, he wazh asleep, an’ I dzust tied a skring to his collar, an’
-tied de uvver end to a little tree, an’ dere he is. See him?”
-
-The brothers moved towards the dog; the doomed animal, after one
-frantic tug at his bonds, recognized the inevitable and shrank
-whimperingly against the tree.
-
-“Poor doggie’s sick, Tod,” said Budge. “We’ll have to play doctor to
-him an’ make him well. I think he ought to go to bed, don’t you?”
-
-“Yesh,” said Toddie, “an’ have a night-gown on, like we do when we’s
-sick.”
-
-“That’s so. You run an’ get yours for him. He needs a little one, you
-know. I guess you’d better take off your shoes, so’ not to disturb Aunt
-Alice.”
-
-Toddie cast his shoes and vanished, returning speedily with a robe in
-which the dog Terry, not without much remonstrance, was soon enveloped;
-after which Budge lifted him tenderly in his arms, saying,--
-
-“His night-gown hangs down an awful lot, I think. We’d better pin up
-the bottom part, like nurse did for the sister-baby the other day.”
-
-“Hazhn’t got no pins,” said Toddie.
-
-“Then we’ll tie it up with a string. Besides, when it’s tied up he
-can’t get his foots out, an’ forget what a poor little sick doggie he
-is.”
-
-In another moment the superabundant skirts were folded up and tied
-tightly around the poor animal’s body, while Toddie, who was having
-great trouble to hold the stout little beast, exclaimed:
-
-“Gwacious! the fwont end of him is awful well! See how it keeps not
-keepin’ still. I don’t fink his night-gown collar looksh very nysh,
-does you?”
-
-“No,” said Budge,” and he’ll go right out of it if we don’t make it
-look nicer. I’ll put string around that too--there! I want to know if
-anybody ever saw a lovelier-lookin’ sick dog than that? Where’ll we put
-him to bed now?”
-
-“Let’s wock him,” Toddie suggested. “Datsh what we likes when we’s
-sick.”
-
-“Then we got to take him in the house,” said Budge, “’cause there ain’t
-any way of makin’ believe rockin’-chair. Come on!”
-
-Quietly the couple sneaked into the house and up to their room. Then
-Budgie resigned his precious burden a moment to Toddie’ care while he
-went in search of a rocking-chair, with which he shortly returned.
-
-“There!” said he, taking the invalid and seating himself, “this is
-something like playin’ doctor. But I wonder what kind of medicine he
-ought to have?--pills or powders?”
-
-“Or running stuff out of a bottle?” suggested Toddie.
-
-“That’s so,” said Budge. “I guess it ’pends on what kind of medicine
-we’ve got. We might make him some nice pills out of soap.”
-
-“I know,” said Toddie, going into the closet, bringing from a corner an
-old winter cloak trimmed with beads, and picking some of the beads from
-it; “these is splendid for pills. I took some of ’em de uvver day when
-I wazsh playin’ doctor an’ sick boy too, an’ dey didn’t taste bad a
-bit.”
-
-“All right,” said Budge, “pick some off.” His order was obeyed, and
-soon the beads were being carefully dropped, one by one, down the dog’s
-throat, Budge opening the animal’s mouth with finger and thumb as he
-had seen his father do. Soon, however, the dog’s jaws closed tightly.
-
-“I want to make him well,” said Toddie. “I ain’t doctored him a bit
-yet.”
-
-“Well, I hardly know what you can do for him,” said Budge, “for he
-won’t take any more pills. Perhaps there’s a sore place on his head
-somewhere that you might put a stickin’-plaster on; but you haven’t got
-any plaster. Oh, I’ll tell you what; you can get a postage-stamp out of
-Uncle Harry’s desk--that’ll do for a stickin’-plaster first-rate.”
-
-“I wantsh to wock him,” said Toddie, “’ides doct’rin’ him.”
-
-“I’m afraid ’twon’t be best to move him just now,” said Budge, scanning
-the face of the patient with solicitude.
-
-“I tell you what,” said Toddie, with the air of a man to whom had come
-a direct inspiration “letsh stop makin’ b’lieve for a minute, till I
-get hold of him; den he can be made into a sick boy again.”
-
-“All right,” said Budge, though evidently against his will. “I s’pose
-I’ve got to, so that all the doctors get a chance at him. But say,
-papa says, mixin’ doctors kills sick folks. Don’t you think we’d
-better talk it all over again? ’Twould be dreadful if Uncle Harry’s
-dear little dog was made dead, you know.”
-
-“All right,” said Toddie, “an’ I’ll hold him while we talk about it.
-I won’t give him a single bittie of medshin ’til we know dzust what he
-ought to have.”
-
-“Mebbe different people’s arms make a difference to sick folks,”
-suggested Budge, holding the patient still more tenderly, and oblivious
-to Toddie’s outstretched arms.
-
-“Dzust see how sad he looks at you!” said Toddie. “I fink his eyes is
-a-sayin’, ‘Oh, I’ll die if dat dear Doctor Toddie don’t nurse me.’ I
-shouldn’t fink you could be so dreadful cruel, Budgie.”
-
-Budge reluctantly relinquished the patient, on whom Toddie bestowed a
-squeeze so affectionate that the dog howled piteously, and struggled to
-free himself.
-
-“There!” said Budge,” what did I tell you. You’re the kind of doctor
-that don’t agree with him, you see.”
-
-“’Tain’t me,” said Toddie. “I guesh it’ de medshin takin’ effec’. Dem
-beads--pills, I mean--can’t get into his bonesh an’ mushels wifout
-skwatchin’ him.”
-
-“I ’pect that’s ’cause we forgot to give ’em to him in somethin’ nice,
-like papa gives us our medicine.”
-
-[Illustration: BUDGE AND TODDIE PLAYING DOCTOR]
-
-“Letsh give him somefin’ nysh now!” said Toddie, “Mebbe it can find
-de medshin, an’ dey’ll go along nysh togevver, dzust like two little
-budders.”
-
-“All right. What’ll it be?”
-
-“Cake.”
-
-“Who’ll ask Aunt Alice for it?” Budge asked. “I guess you’d better; I
-did, last time we wanted cake. Anyhow, I was getting it without askin’,
-an’ I promised her I’d always ask after that.”
-
-“Den you ought to begin, right stwaight away,” said Toddie, “elsh mebbe
-you’d forget. I know what you wantsh! You wants me to ask so’s you can
-get poor sick baby again while I go.”
-
-“Well,” said Budge, somewhat abashed, “I suppose I’ll have to do it.”
-
-He departed, and returned within two or three minutes with a large
-piece of fruit cake and a radiant countenance.
-
-“I tell you, Tod, just don’t folks get paid for bein’ good? I was
-going down to ask Aunt Alice, just as good as could be, and then I
-couldn’t find her anywhere in the house, so there wasn’t anythin’ to
-do but go get the cake myself. I don’t believe we’d have got such a big
-piece, either, if she’d been there; now I know what that big thing on
-the Sunday-school wall means, ‘Wirtue is its own reward.’”
-
-“Gwacious Peter!” exclaimed Toddie, extending his hand for the cake;
-“we dassent give him all dat! ’Twould make him dweam dweadful fings.”
-Here Toddie put the cake to the dog’s mouth, and the animal eagerly
-bit at it. “Goodnish! I forgot dat dogs could open moufs bigger dan
-babies. I fink he’s got more now dan’ going to agree wif him. G’way!”
-continued Toddie, as the dog again snapped at the cake. “We’s got to
-put dis where he can’t see it, ’less he’ll be cryin’ for it all de
-time.” And Toddie hastily crowded a large portion of the remainder into
-his own mouth.
-
-“Oh--h--h!” exclaimed Budge, moving to the rescue of the remainder of
-the cake. “You ain’t took no medicine, an’ you’ll dream of more cows
-than you ever saw. Give me it!”
-
-“Um--m--m--ugh--mow--moo-um--guh!” mumbled Toddie with difficulty, as
-he tightened his grasp on the remainder of the cake.
-
-“Oh, give it to me, Tod!” pleaded Budge. “I’ll eat it, and then I’ll
-dream ’bout the same cows that you do. Don’t you know how often you
-wish I’d dream the same things you do, and get mad ’cause I don’t?”
-
-Toddie indulged in some spasmodic final gulps, coughed violently, and
-said:
-
-“It’s dwefful to dweam about cows, an’ I loves you, ’cauzh you’s my
-dee budder Budgie, an’ I don’t want you to dweam dwefful fings.”
-Here Toddie hastily crammed most of the remainder of the cake into his
-mouth, and handed the rest to his brother, saying:
-
-“That’ll make--you--dweam ’bout two or--or free cows, an’ so it’ll let
-you get into de dweam wifout such drefful times as Izh got to have.”
-
-Budge might, perhaps, have recognized in fitting terms this evidence
-of brotherly forethought, but his mouth found other occupation for a
-moment. Meanwhile, the patient was wriggling; by a desperate effort he
-freed himself from Toddie’s embrace, and fell upon the floor, where he
-rolled frantically about with many contortions and howls.
-
-“Oh, he’s got a convulsion! I guess he must be havin’ a stomach tooth
-come,” said Budge. “What can we do?”
-
-“Pallygollic,” Toddie suggested.
-
-“We ain’t got none,” said Budge. “Tell you what. Let’s make b’lieve
-he’s a dog a minute, an’ throw water on him. That’ what they do to
-dogs in fits.”
-
-“Den we’d get Aunt Alice’s new carpet all wet,” said Toddie. “Let’s put
-him in de bafftub.”
-
-“Just the thing!” said Budge, picking up the animal while Toddie ran
-before and turned on the water. The dog was dropped into the tub, where
-he naturally redoubled his efforts to free himself; noting which, Budge
-remarked:
-
-“Say, Tod, it’s hot water they set babies in when the tooths bother
-’em. We’ll make b’lieve he’s a baby again, and turn on t’other faucet.”
-
-Toddie quickly opened the hot-water faucet.
-
-“There--he’s gettin’ better,” said Budge, observing the animal with
-professional closeness. “I guess he can come out now. OW!--that water’s
-awful hot! How are we goin’ to get him out?”
-
-Toddie leaned over the edge of the tub and seized the dog by the head.
-The animal struggled violently. Toddie redoubled his exertions, lost
-his balance, and tumbled headlong into the tub himself, from which he
-speedily scrambled, howling violently, while Budge snatched the animal
-and landed him on the bathroom floor.
-
-“Oh, de--oh!” cried Toddie.
-
-“Does it hurt you awful, dear little brother?” asked Budge tenderly.
-
-“No! De hurtzh gone off of me, but I gotted a lot of water in my
-mouf, and it washed out all de taste of de cake. I fink it’ too
-good-for-nuffin mean for anyfing.”
-
-“Well, I guess you’d better go sit out in the sun and dry yourself,”
-said Budge, “and change the poor doggie’s clothes for him.”
-
-“Wantsh my clozhezh tschanged,” sobbed Toddie.
-
-“Come on, then,” said Budge, leading the way back to his own room, and
-dragging the bundle of wet dog behind him. “There!” said he, closing
-the door, “you dress yourself and I’ll fix the dog.”
-
-Carefully untying the strings that confined the animal, but taking the
-precaution to tie one end to Terry’s collar and the other to a chair,
-he removed the night-gown, brought a brush, comb, and bottle of cologne
-from his aunt’s room, and began to brush the dog’ coat, pouring on
-cologne without stint. The animal was too grateful to be on his feet
-again to offer any serious remonstrance, until suddenly Budge poured
-considerable cologne upon his head; the liquid found its way into
-Terry’s eyes, and the spirits put the brute in such pain that he began
-to dash frantically about the room, dragging the light chair after
-him. Budge had left the door open, and through this dashed Terry, and
-down the stairs. The top of the chair struck the stair-rail, and at
-once resolved itself into its original parts; the remainder flew down
-the steps after the dog, and executed a rapid semicircle in air in the
-lower hall as the dog flew around the newel post and encountered a
-handsome cabinet hat-rack on the way, to the great damage of the polish.
-
-[Illustration: DOWN THE STAIRS, DASHED TERRY]
-
-Then, still obeying the inexorable demands of the string, whose other
-end was attached to the collar of the dog, it meandered through the
-parlor, leaving a leg with the piano pedal as a memento of a trifling
-difference, attempted to ascend the chimney through the fireplace but
-succeeded only so far as to seriously compromise the positions of the
-andirons, lodged between the legs of an antique table to the complete
-prostration of the table itself, and leaving the seat of the chair
-among the table’s varied contents, struck a jardinière, which came down
-with a ceramic crash, flew to the dining-room, into a chair, upon and
-across the table, taking with it a cover with which for a moment or two
-it was seriously mixed, and went down the kitchen stairs, where it met
-Mrs. Burton returning from a conference with the greengrocer. As the
-chair was one of special lightness and exceeding cost, Mrs. Burton was
-naturally desirous of interviewing Terry; but the animal had evidently
-formed plans which he did not intend should be thwarted, so with a
-vicious snap he eluded her, dashed through the kitchen and sought the
-shady solitude of the forest.
-
-Intuition and experience combined to suggest to Mrs. Burton the
-original causes of Terry’s excitement; so, waiting only a few moments,
-that she might be perfectly calm and righteously judicial, she started
-in search of the culprits. They were not in their room, though a heap
-of wet clothes and a general displacement of everything proved that
-they had been there since the chambermaid had put the room in order. A
-further search disclosed Toddie upon Mrs. Burton’s own bed, so soundly
-asleep that she had not the heart to wake him. Promptly assuming that
-Budge was the only culprit, she continued her search, and found him
-leaning out of a window in a little observatory on the top of the
-house. The rustle of his aunt’s dress aroused him, and, bending upon
-her a look of exquisite yet melancholy sensitiveness, he said:
-
-“Aunt Alice, everybody must die, mustn’t they?”
-
-“Yes,” replied Mrs. Burton, “and if you had paid the debt of nature
-before destroying my pretty chair your earthly influence might have
-been less injurious than it has been this morning.”
-
-“But, Aunt Alice,” said Budge, absorbed in his own thoughts, “do you
-see that graveyard way off yonder? It’s awful full of dead folks, ain’t
-it?”
-
-“Very,” said Mrs. Burton; “but what they have to do with a ruined chair
-I am unable to see.”
-
-“Well, what I want to know,” said Budge, still oblivious to everything
-but the matter that was occupying his mind--“what I want to know is,
-who’s goin’ to throw flowers into the last man’ grave, an’ who’s
-goin’ to make the hole that he’s put into? What if he should be me?
-I’d feel awful bothered to know how I’d have any funeral at all. I
-know what I’d do--I’d just pray the Lord to take me straight up to
-heaven, like he did with the good Elijah. Say, Aunt Alice, what drawed
-the chariot that Elijah went up in? Did them ravens do it that used to
-bring him his lunch?”
-
-“I don’t know,” said Mrs. Burton, “but no chariot would ever have come
-for him if he had been in the habit of breaking up chairs and tying
-pieces of them to dogs.”
-
-“Why,” said Budge, beginning to comprehend the drift of his aunt’s
-remarks, “I didn’t tie any piece of any chair to any dog. I tied all
-of Terry to a chair, and was bein’ as nice to him as you ever was to
-me, an’ all of a sudden he ran away with the whole of the chair. You
-remember that story in the Bible about some bad devils goin’ into a
-lot of pigs an’ makin’ ’em jump over the side of a mountain an’ into
-the ocean? Well, I think some of them same chaps must have got into
-Terry.”
-
-[Illustration: “WHY AUNT ALICE! HOW DID YOU UPSET THAT TABLE?”]
-
-Mrs. Burton’s faith in this demonological theory was not strong,
-but she felt that her wrath had deserted her, so to escape further
-humiliation she descended to the parlor. The scene which presented
-itself to her gaze was one to which womanly language could not do
-justice, and her hurried attempts to repair the damage were not
-sufficient to prevent the reawakening of her anger. While still in the
-depths of her indignant despair, her nephew Budge entered the room and
-exclaimed honestly:
-
-“Aunt Alice, how did you upset that table and break that handsome great
-big vase of make-believe flowers?”
-
-Mrs. Burton instinctively rose to her feet, assumed a conventional
-attitude of Lady Macbeth, and shook a forefinger at Budge in a menacing
-manner that caused the child to shudder, as she uttered the single
-word--
-
-“Tomorrow!”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X
-
-
-“The beginning of the end!” was the remark with which Mr. Burton broke
-a short silence at his breakfast-table, on the last day of the time for
-which his little visitors had been invited.
-
-Mrs. Burton looked meek and made no reply.
-
-“Budders,” said Mr. Burton, addressing his nephews, “do you feel
-reconstructed?”
-
-“Huh?” asked Budge.
-
-“Do you feel mentally and morally reconstructed?” repeated the uncle.
-
-“Reconwhichted?” asked Budge.
-
-“That’s an awful big wyde,” remarked Toddie, through a mouthful of
-oatmeal porridge. “It’s like what the minister says in chych sometimes,
-an’ makes me want to play around in the seat.”
-
-“Reconstructed; made over again,” explained Mr. Burton.
-
-“Why, no,” said Budge, after looking at his hands and feeling for his
-stomach, as if to see if any radical physical change had taken place
-without his knowledge. “Maybe we’re a little bigger, but we can’t see
-ourselves where we grow.”
-
-“Don’t you feel as if you wanted to see that baby sister again?” asked
-Mrs. Burton, endeavoring to change the subject. “Don’t you want to go
-back to her and stay all the time?”
-
-“I don’t,” said Toddie, “’cauzh dere ain’t no dog at our house, an’
-tryin’ to catch dogs is fun, ’cept when dey never want to be catched
-at all, like Terry is lotsh of de time.”
-
-“I mean, haven’t you learned, since you’ve been here, to be a great
-deal better than you ever were before?” asked Mr. Burton.
-
-“I guesh so,” Toddie replied. “I’zhe said more prayersh an’ sung more
-little hymns dan I ever did in all my life before. An’ I ain’t pulled
-off any more hind hoppers from gwasshoppers sinsh Aunt Alice told me it
-wazh bad. I only pulls off front hoppers now. Dey’zh real little, you
-know--dere’ only a little bittie of ’em to feel hurted.”
-
-“How is it with you, Budge?” asked Mr. Burton. “Do you feel as if you
-had learned to act from different motives.”
-
-“What’s a motive?” asked Budge; “anythin’ like a loco-motive? I never
-feel like them, ’xcept when I run pretty hard; then I puff like
-everythin’, only steam don’t come out of me, but I always think there’s
-an engine inside of me, goin’ punk! punk! like everything. Papa says
-it’s only a heart--a little bit of a boy’s heart, but if that’s all, I
-should think a big man’ heart could pull a whole train of cars.”
-
-“You haven’t learned to bear in mind the subject of conversation. But
-have you become able to comprehend the inner significance of things?”
-
-“Things inside of us, do you mean?”
-
-“Like oatmeal powwidge?” Toddie suggested.
-
-“Have you realized that a master mind has been exerting a reformatory
-influence upon you?”
-
-“Izh master mind an’ ’must mind’s de same fing?” asked Toddie. “We
-wasn’t doin’ noffin’ ’cept eatin’ our brekspups. Don’t see what we’s
-got to mind about.”
-
-“Have you always unhesitatingly obeyed your aunt’s commands, moved
-thereunto by a sense of her superiority by divine right?”
-
-“Now, Harry!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, who during this conversation had
-been making mute appeals which her husband could not have resisted had
-he seen them, and knowing of the existence of which he had carefully
-kept his eyes averted from her face.
-
-“If you don’t stop tormenting those poor children with stupid sections
-of dictionary you yourself shall realize my superiority by divine
-right, for I’ll take them up-stairs and away from you.”
-
-“Only one more question, my dear,” said Mr. Burton, “and I’ll have
-done. I want only to ask the boys if they’ve noticed any conflicts of
-heredity, and, if so, which side has triumphed?”
-
-“I guess you are tryin’ to play preacher, like Tod said,” remarked
-Budge.
-
-“Oh!” said Mr. Burton, blushing a little under a merry laugh from his
-wife. “Well, how does it affect you?”
-
-“It makes me feel like I do in church when I wish Sunday-school time
-would hurry up,” said Budge.
-
-“Me too,” assented Toddie.
-
-“You can run away and play now,” said Mrs. Burton, seeing that the
-children’s plates were empty.
-
-The boys departed, the dog Terry apparently leading the way, yet being
-invisible when the children reached the open air.
-
-“You needn’t have humiliated me before the children,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-Mr. Burton hastened to make the “amende honorable” peculiar to the
-conjugal relation and said:
-
-“Don’t fear, my dear. They didn’t understand.”
-
-“Oh, didn’t they?” exclaimed Mrs. Burton. “I wish all my adult friends
-had as quick perceptions as those boys. They may not understand big
-words, but tones and looks are enough for them.”
-
-“Why?” said Mr. Burton, “they scarcely looked up from their plates.”
-
-“Never mind,” replied the lady, delighted at an opportunity to reassert
-her superiority in at least one particular. “Children--boys, are more
-like women than like men. Their unblunted sensibilities are quick;
-their intuition is simply angelic. Would that their other qualities
-were also so perfect.”
-
-“I’m very sorry, my dear,” said Mr. Burton, temporarily subjugated,
-“that I said a word to them, and when you are ready to kneel upon the
-stool of repentance I’ll depart and leave you alone.”
-
-“You’ll have no occasion to go,” said Mrs. Burton. “I’ve confessed
-already--to them, and a single confession is enough. I rather like the
-operation, when, for my reward, I receive sympathy instead of sarcasm.”
-
-“Again, I ask forgiveness,” said Mr. Burton; “and having made a
-fellow-penitent of myself, can’t I have good in return for my evil, and
-know what a fellow-sufferer has learned from experience?”
-
-“Just this,” said Mrs. Burton; “that nobody is fit to take the care of
-children excepting the children’s own parents.”
-
-Mr. Burton dropped his fork and exclaimed:
-
-“My dear, that’s better than an experience. It’s a revelation.”
-
-Mrs. Burton regained her pleasantness of countenance and said:
-
-“I think that only one of kindred blood can comprehend an adult----”
-
-“Unless modest enough to go out of self for a little while,” suggested
-Mr. Burton.
-
-Mrs. Burton opened her eyes very wide and dropped her lip a little, but
-recovered herself to finish her sentence by “And I think it is ever so
-much harder to comprehend children, with their imperfect natures that
-never develop harmoniously, and that can but seldom express themselves
-intelligently.”
-
-“I never noticed that the boys were at a loss to express themselves,
-when they wanted anything,” said Mr. Burton.
-
-“That sounds just like a man,” said Mrs. Burton, fully herself again.
-“As if children had no desires and yearnings excepting for material
-things! What do you suppose it means when Budge sits down in a corner,
-goes into a brown study, and, when asked what the matter is, drawls
-‘Nothin’!’s in a tone that indicates that a very considerable something
-is puzzling his young head? What does it mean when Toddie asks his
-half-funny, half-pathetic questions about matters too great for his
-comprehension, and looks as wistful as ever after he is answered? Do
-you suppose they care for nothing but food and play?”
-
-Mr. Burton felt humbled, and his looks evinced the nature of his
-feeling.
-
-“You are right, little woman. I wish I might have consulted you before
-I took the boys in hand last summer.”
-
-“And I’m very glad you didn’t,” said Mrs. Burton; “for you did a
-great deal better with them than you could have done if I had been
-your adviser. There is some of the same blood in both of you, and you
-succeeded in many points where I have blundered. Oh, if I had but
-known it all before they came! How much I might have spared them--and
-myself!”
-
-Mr. Burton hastened to extend to his wife some mute sympathy.
-
-“They’re going to-day,” said Mrs. Burton, finding something in her eyes
-that required the attention of her kerchief--“just as I’ve learned what
-I should be to them! They’re angels, in spite of their pranks, and it’s
-always so with angels’s visits; one never discovers what they are until
-they spread their wings to depart.”
-
-“This particular pair of angels can be borrowed for an extra day, I
-suppose, if you desire it!” suggested Mr. Burton.
-
-“I declare,” said Mrs. Burton, “that’s a brilliant idea! I’ll go tell
-Helen that I don’t think she’s yet fit to have them back again.”
-
-“And I,” said Mr. Burton, preparing to go to the city, “will try to
-persuade Tom into the same belief, though I know he’ll look like a man
-being led to execution.”
-
-The Burtons left the house together a few minutes later, and the boys
-returned soon after. Being unable to find their aunt, they descended
-to the kitchen, and made a formal demand upon the cook for saucers,
-spoons, sugar and cream.
-
-“An’ fhot are yees up to now?” asked Bridget.
-
-“You’ll see, after you give us the things,” said Budge.
-
-“Deysh the reddesht, biggesht ones I ever saw anywheresh,” Toddie
-exclaimed.
-
-“I don’t want ye to be takin’ the things way off to nobody but the
-dhivil knows where,” said Bridget. “Fhot if yees should lose one of the
-shpoons an’ the misthress ’ud think I sthole it?”
-
-“Oh, we won’t go anywheres but ’cept under the trees in the back yard,”
-pleaded Budge. “An’ there’s all the nice berries spoilin’ now while
-you’re botherin’ about it. My papa says berries ought always to be
-eaten just when they’re picked.”
-
-“Av it’s only berries, I s’pose yees can have the things,” muttered
-Bridget, bringing from a closet a small tray, and covering it with the
-desired articles.
-
-“Give us another saucer, an’ we’ll bring you some,” said Budge,
-“’cause you’re nice to us. We’ll need more sugar, though, if we’re
-goin’ to do that.”
-
-In the presence of flattery Bridget showed herself only a woman. She
-replaced the teacup of sugar with a well-filled bowl; she even put a
-few lumps on top of the powdered article which filled the bowl, and as
-the boys departed she remarked to the chambermaid that “that bye Budge
-is a rale gintleman. I’ve heard as how his father’s folks came from the
-ould counthry, an’ mark me words, Jane, they’re from the nobility.”
-
-A few minutes later Mrs. Burton emerged from the sick-room of her
-sister-in-law. She had meant to stay but a moment, but Mrs. Lawrence’s
-miniature had, as a special favor, been placed in Mrs. Burton’s arms,
-and it was so wee and helpless, and made such funny little noises,
-and blinked so inquiringly, and stretched forth such a diminutive
-rose petal of a hand, that time had flown in apprehension, and sent
-the nurse to recapture the baby and banish the visitor. And Mrs.
-Burton was sauntering leisurely homeward, looking at nothing in
-particular, touching tenderly with the tip of her parasol the daisies
-and buttercups that looked up to her from the roadside, stopping even
-to look inquiringly upon a solitary ewe, who seemed solicitous for the
-welfare of a lamb which playfully evaded her. Suddenly Mrs. Burton
-heard a howl, a roar, and a scream inextricably mixed. She immediately
-dropped all thought of smaller beings, for she recognized the tones of
-her nephews. A moment later, the noise increasing in volume all the
-while, both boys emerged from behind a point of woods, running rapidly,
-and alternately howling and clapping their hands to their mouths. Mrs.
-Burton ran to meet them, and exclaimed:
-
-“Boys, do stop that dreadful noise. What is the matter?”
-
-“Ow--um--oh!” screamed Budge.
-
-“Wezh been--ow!--eatin’ some--some--ow!--some pieces of de bad
-playsh,” said Toddie, “wif, oh, oh!--cream an’ sugar on ’em. But dey
-wazh dzust as hot as if noffin’ was on ’em.”
-
-“Come back and let aunty see about it,” said the mystified woman, but
-Budge howled and twitched away, while Toddie said:
-
-“Wantzh papa an’ manma! Deyzh had all little boy bovvers an’ knowsh
-what to do. Wantsh to get in our ice-housh an’ never go--ow!--out of
-it.”
-
-The screaming of the children had been heard farther than Mrs. Burton
-imagined it could be, for a sound of heavy and rapid footsteps
-increased behind her and, turning, she beheld the faithful Mike, Mr.
-Lawrence’ gardener-coachman.
-
-“Fhot is it, dharlin’?” asked Mike, looking sharply at each boy, and
-picking a red speck from the front of Toddie’s dress. “Murther alive!
-red peppers!”
-
-Mike dashed across the street, vaulted a fence, and into an inclosed
-bit of woodland, ran frantically about among the trees, stopped in
-front of one and attacked it with his knife, to the astonishment of
-Mrs. Burton, who imagined the man had lost his senses. A few seconds
-later he returned with a strip of bark, which he cut into small pieces
-as he ran.
-
-“Here, ye dharlin’ little divils,” said he, cramming a piece of the
-bark into each boy’ mouth, “chew that. It’s slippery elm; it’ll sthop
-the burnin’. Don’t the byes play that trick on the other byes at school
-often an’ often, an’ hasn’t me sister’s childher been nearly murthered
-by it? An’ fhot ought your father do to yees for throyin’ to shwally
-such thrash? Oh, but wouldn’t I loike to foind the dhivils that put
-yees up to it! Who was they? Tell me, so I can sind them afther their
-father, where it’s hotter than pepper.”
-
-[Illustration: A RED PEPPER EXPERIENCE]
-
-“How did you come to eat red peppers?” asked Mrs. Burton, as the
-children escaped slowly from their pain.
-
-“Why, a boy once told us they was strawberries,” cried Budge, “an’
-to-day we saw a lot where men was spoilin’ a garden to build a house,
-an’ we asked ’em if we could have ’em, an’ they said yes, an’ we
-brought ’em all back in a piece of paper, an’ didn’t bite one of ’em,
-’cause we wanted to eat ’em all in a littel tea-party like gentlemen,
-and the first one I chewed--ow! That poor rich man in the fire--I know
-just how he felt when he begged Abraham to have his tongue cooled with
-a drop of water.”
-
-“Poor old rich man didn’t have all de fire in hizh mouf, ’pectin’ dat
-’twazh goin’ to be strawbewwies,” sobbed Toddie.
-
-“There wasn’t no dear old Mike to go an’ get him slippery elm, either,”
-said Budge. “Soon’s we come back home to stay, Mike, I’m goin’ to put
-dirt in the stable-pump, just to be real good about stoppin’ when you
-tell me to.”
-
-“An’ I,” said Toddie, “’zh goin’ to make you a present all alone by
-myseff. I don’t know yet what it’ll be. I guess it’ll have to be a
-’prise. What would you like best?--a gold watch or a piece of peanut
-candy?”
-
-Between two presents of such nearly equal value Michael, the
-benefactor, found some difficulty in deciding, and he walked away with
-that application of fingers to head which is peculiar to many persons
-when in a quandary. Meanwhile Mrs. Burton led the children toward her
-own house, saying:
-
-“What can we do to-day that can be extremely nice, little boys? Mamma
-expects you home to-morrow, and Aunt Alice wants to make your last day
-a very happy one.”
-
-“To-morrow!” exclaimed Budge, apparently oblivious to all else his aunt
-had said. “I thought we were going home to-day!”
-
-“So you were, dear,” said Mrs. Burton; “but you didn’t seem to be in
-any hurry, and I couldn’t bear to let you go so soon. Did you really
-want to go to-day?”
-
-“Why, I’ve been thinkin’ about it an’ countin’ days till to-day ever
-since we’ve come,” said Budge. “Sometimes it seemed as if I’d burst if
-I couldn’t be back home again, but I tried to be real good about it,
-’cause papa said ’twould be better for the sister-baby and mamma if we
-stayed away. Sometimes in the night-time, I’ve cried because I wasn’t
-in my own little bed.”
-
-“You poor dear boy,” said Mrs. Burton, stopping to kiss Budge, “why
-didn’t you tell Aunt Alice when you were so unhappy?”
-
-“You couldn’t do me any good,” said Budge. “Nobody could but my
-papa or mamma. An’ then I don’t like to tell what’ hurtin’ my
-heart--somethin’ in my throat makes me hate to tell such things.”
-
-“Haven’t you had a pleasant time at our house? When you’ve not been
-doing whatever you liked, haven’t Uncle Harry and I been trying to make
-you happy?”
-
-“Oh, yes. But some folks know just what we like, and some other folks
-know what they want us to like; and the first some folks are my papa
-and mamma, an’ the other some folks are you an’ Uncle Harry. You’ve
-done some real nice things for us, though, an’ I’m goin’ to ask mamma
-to let us invite you to our house, an’ then I’ll show you how to take
-care of little boys an’ make ’em happy!”
-
-“You come to vizhit at our housh,” said Toddie,” an you can have cake
-between mealsh, an’ make mud-pies whenever you want to, no matter if
-youzh got your very besht clozhezh on. An’ I won’t ever say ‘Don’t!’s
-to you one single time!”
-
-“An’ you shall have your own mamma come every day to frolic an’ cut
-up with you,” said Budge. “I wish you had a papa; we’d have him too!”
-
-“Aunt Alice,” said Budge, “how do big folks get along without papas and
-mammas?”
-
-“I don’t know, I’m sure, dear,” said Mrs. Burton, remembering how
-helpless she found herself when her husband first took her from beneath
-her mother’s wing.
-
-“Don’t they ever have somethin’ to tell ’em, an’ then feel like
-somebody else when they find they ain’t there to tell ’em to?”
-
-“I suppose some do,” said Mrs. Burton, recalling some periods of her
-own life when she longed for a confidant who should be neither lover
-nor friend.
-
-“Don’t you think maybe they look all around then, an’ think the nicer
-things are the lonelier they are?” continued Budge.
-
-“Yes, dear,” replied Mrs. Burton, with a kiss.
-
-“Musht be awful not to have anybody to ask for pennies when youzh
-lonesome an’ don’t know what else to do,” said Toddie.
-
-“An’ not to have anybody hold you to keep from kind o’s tumblin’
-to pieces when you’ve seen enough of everythin’, an’ done enough of
-everythin’, an’ don’t know what’ goin’ to happen next, an’ wish it
-wouldn’t happen at all,” said Budge. “Say, Aunt Alice, folks don’t
-ever have to feel that way when they get to be angels, do they?”
-
-“No, indeed!”
-
-“Well, do you think it makes folks in heaven happy to have a
-father--the Lord, you know, when there ain’t anythin’ to ask Him for?
-If they’re happy the whole time, I don’t see when they can think about
-how nice it is to have a heavenly papa. Do little angels ever have to
-go away from home an’ stay a few days, an’ not see their father at
-all?”
-
-“Mercy--no!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, with a shudder. “Where do you get
-such ideas, Budge?”
-
-“Nowhere. I don’t get ’em at all--they get me, an’ don’t let go of me
-until I think myself most to pieces, or else get somethin’ new to do
-that makes me forget ’em.”
-
-Mrs. Burton mentally resolved to immediately find something new for
-Budge to do, if only to keep him from leading her mind upon ground
-which, being unknown to her, she assumed must be dangerous. Her anxiety
-was not lessened when Toddie strayed into more active conversation.
-
-“Aunt Alish,” said he, “what does little boy angels do wif deir
-pennies when dey get ’em? Ish dere candy stores up in hebben, and do de
-folks dat keeps ’em give more for a penny dan dey do here?”
-
-“Pennies are of no use in heaven, Toddie,” said Mrs. Burton, almost
-frantic to find a way of escape from the pair of literalists, yet
-remembering her longings of the early morning, to have the boys with
-her that she might find her way to their hearts and lead them into her
-own.
-
-“What? Not good for anyfin’?” asked Toddie. “Wouldn’t it be dweadful
-den if I was to get to be an angel right now?--dere’h sixty-four
-pennies in my savings bank.”
-
-“You can’t carry pennies to heaven, you silly boy!” exclaimed Budge.
-“In a place where the streets are made of gold, you don’t s’pose
-anybody cares for pennies, do you? I don’t b’lieve you could buy a
-single stick of candy there for less than a dollar bill!”
-
-“If you little boys are so fond of candy,” said Mrs. Burton, in
-desperation, “we will make a lot ourselves, after lunch.”
-
-“Oh, oh!” Budge exclaimed. “Can common folks like us make candy?”
-
-“But we are not common folks, Budge.”
-
-“I think we are,” said the boy, “when I think what lovely people
-candy-makers must be.”
-
-“How much will we make?” asked Toddie. “Two pennies’s worth?”
-
-“Oh, yes. More than two little boys can eat in a day.”
-
-“Gwacious Peter!” Toddie exclaimed, “dat would be more dan a whole
-candystore full! Come on! Don’t letsh eat any lunch at all, so’s to
-have our tummuks all empty for de candy.”
-
-[Illustration: Making Candy]
-
-“I’ll bet I can walk faster than you can, Aunt Alice,” said Budge,
-tugging at his aunt with one hand and pushing her with the other.
-
-“I can run faster dan bofe of you,” shouted Toddie. “Come on!”
-
-Mrs. Burton declined both challenges, so the boys went rapidly over the
-course without her and ran frantically up and down the piazza until
-their aunt joined them.
-
-“What are you goin’ to make it in, Aunt Alice?” shouted Budge, while
-Mrs. Burton was yet a hundred yards away.
-
-“A saucepan.”
-
-“A washboiler would be better--two washboilersh!” suggested Toddie.
-
-“Now, do you want to go home to-day, Budge?” asked Mrs. Burton
-mischievously.
-
-“I--well--I guess you’d better not remind me very much about it,”
-replied Budge, “else maybe I will. What kind of candy is it goin’ to
-be?”
-
-“Molasses.”
-
-“De stick kind, or de sticky?” asked Toddie.
-
-“Both,” replied the lady, ascending the steps.
-
-“Oh, goody, goody!” exclaimed Toddie, clutching at his aunt’s dress. “I
-wants to kish you.”
-
-“An’ I want to give you an awful big hug,” said Budge.
-
-Mrs. Burton accepted these proffered tokens of esteem and afterward
-spent two miserable hours in trying to pacify the boys until
-lunch-time. They ate scarcely anything, and remonstrated so
-persistently against their aunt’s appetite that the meal remained
-almost untouched. Then the lady was escorted to the kitchen by her
-nephews and there was an animated discussion as to the size of the
-saucepan to be used, and the boys watched the pouring of the molasses
-so closely that not a fly dared to assist. Then they quarreled for the
-right to stir the odorous mass until Mrs. Burton was obliged to allot
-them three-minute reliefs by the kitchen clock, and Budge declared that
-his turns didn’t last more than a second, while Toddie complained that
-they occupied two hours, and each boy had to assist at the critical
-operation of “trying,” and they consumed what seemed to them long,
-weary years in watching the paste cool itself. When, at last, Mrs.
-Burton pronounced one panfull ready to “pull,” a deep sigh of relief
-burst from each little chest.
-
-“This is the way to pull candy,” said Mrs. Burton, touching her fingers
-lightly with butter, and then taking a portion of the paste from a pan
-and drawing it into a string in the usual manner. “And here,” she said,
-separating the smaller portions, “is a piece for each of you.”
-
-Budge carefully oiled his fingers as he had seen his aunt do, and
-proceeded cautiously to draw his candy, but Toddie seized his portion
-with both hands, raised it to his mouth, and fastened his teeth in it.
-Mrs. Burton sprang at him in an instant.
-
-“Stop, Toddie--quick! It may fasten your teeth together so you can’t
-easily open them.”
-
-Many were the inarticulate noises, all in a tone of remonstrance, that
-Toddie made as his aunt forcibly removed the mass from his face. When
-at last he could open his mouth he exclaimed:
-
-“Don’t want mine pulled! itsh too awful good the way it izh--you’ll
-pull de good out, I’zh ’fwaid.”
-
-“You boys should have aprons,” said Mrs. Burton. “Budge, put down
-your candy, run up-stairs and tell Jane to bring down two of Toddie’s
-aprons.”
-
-Budge hurried up-stairs, forgetting the first half of his aunt’s
-injunction. Returning, he had just reached the foot of the main stair,
-when the door-bell rang. Hastily putting his candy down, he opened the
-door and admitted two ladies, who asked for Mrs. Burton.
-
-“I guess she’s too busy makin’ candy to be bothered by any lady,” said
-Budge, “but I’ll ask her. Sit down.”
-
-Ten minutes later, Mrs. Burton, by a concentration of effort peculiar
-to woman, but which must ever remain a mystery to man, entered the
-parlor in afternoon dress, and greeted her visitors. Both rose to meet
-her, and with one of them rose also a rocking-chair with a cane seat.
-This remained in mid-air only an instant, however, for the lady’s dress
-had not been designed for the purpose of moving furniture; with a
-sharp, ripping sound, like that of musketry file-firing afar off, her
-skirt soon took the appearance of a train dress, heavily puffed at the
-waist with fabric of another color.
-
-Both ladies endeavored to disengage her; Mrs. Burton turned pale and
-then red as she discovered the cause of the accident, while Budge’s
-voice was heard from the doorway saying:
-
-“Aunt Alice, have you seen my candy? I laid it down somewhere so’s to
-let the ladies in, an’ now I can’t find it!”
-
-An indignant gesture by Mrs. Burton sent Budge away pouting and
-grumbling and the chambermaid was summoned, the visitor’ dress was
-repaired temporarily and the accident was being laughed away, when
-from the kitchen there arose an appalling sound. It was compounded of
-shrieks, yelps, and a peculiar noise as of something being thrown upon
-the floor.
-
-The noise increased; there were irregular footfalls upon the
-kitchen-stairs, and at last Toddie appeared, dragging by the collar the
-dog Terry, from whose fore feet hung, by a slowly lengthening rope of
-candy, one of the pans of the unpulled paste.
-
-“I fought if I gived him candy he would be nicer to me,” Toddie
-explained,” so I chased him into a closet, an’ put the pan up to his
-nose, an’ told him to help hisself. And he stuck his foot in, an’----”
-
-Further explanation was given by deeds, not words, for as Toddie spoke
-the dog kicked violently with his hind feet, disengaged himself from
-Toddie and started for the door, dragging and lengthening his sweet
-bonds behind him upon the floor. Toddie shrieked and attempted to
-catch him, stepped upon the candy-rope, found himself fastened to the
-carpet, and burst into tears, while the visitors departed and told
-stories which by the next afternoon had developed into the statement
-that Mrs. Burton had been foolish enough to indulge her nephews in a
-candy-pulling in her parlor and upon her new carpet.
-
-As for the boys, Budge ate some of his candy, and Toddie ate much of
-everybodies, and had difficulty in saving a fragment for his uncle. And
-when at night he knelt in spotless white to pray he informed Heaven
-that now he understood what ladies meant when they said they had had a
-real sweet time.
-
-[Illustration: Budge and Tody with Sunflower]
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI
-
- “We’re goin’ home
- We’re goin’ home
- We’re goin’ home
- To die no more.”
-
-
-Sang Budge through the hall next morning, and he repeated the lines
-over and over so many times that they at last impressed themselves upon
-the mind of Toddie, who asked:
-
-“Budgie, izh you a-tellin’ de troof?”
-
-“What ’bout?”
-
-“Why, ’bout not dyin’. Don’t little boys hazh to die after goin’ to
-live wif their uncles an’ aunts for a little while?”
-
-“Oh, of course they do, but I’m so happy I’ve got to sing somethin’;
-the front part of it is troof, and that’s three times as big as the
-other part, and I can’t think of any other song ’bout goin’ home.”
-
-“Datsh too baddy,” complained Toddie. “I fought you wazh tellin’ the
-troof, an’ I wouldn’t never hazh to hazh a lot of dirt on my eyes, so
-I couldn’t look up into de sky.”
-
-“Oh, you won’t have to be bothered that way,” said Budge. “When you
-die your spirit goes up to heaven, an’ you can look straight down froo
-the sky with your new eyes, an’ laugh at the old dirt that thinks it’
-keepin’ your old eyes shut up.”
-
-“Don’t want no new eyes! Eyes I’zh got izh good enough to see fings
-wif.”
-
-“But just you think, Toddie,” reasoned Budge, “heaven-eyes can’t get
-dust in ’em, or have to be washed, or be bothered with choo-choo smoke.”
-
-“Can’t smoke get in the windows of steam-cars up in hebben?”
-
-“Of course not! Not if everythin’ goin’ to be all right up there.
-There ain’t no choo-choos in heaven anyhow. What does angels want of
-choo-choos, I’d like to know, when they’ve got wings to fly with?”
-
-[Illustration: “WE’RE GOIN’s HOME”]
-
-“I’d never want all the choo-choos to go away, even if I had a fousand
-wingsh,” said Toddie. “’Twould be such fun to fan myself wif my wings
-when I was goin’ froo hot old tunnels.”
-
-“Tunnels can’t be hot in heaven,” explained Budge; “’cause they’re
-uncomfortable, an’ nothin’ can be uncomfortable in heaven. I guess
-there ain’t any tunnels there at all. Oh, yes! I guess there’s little
-bits of ones, just long enough to give little boys the fun of ridin’
-in and ridin’ out of ’em.”
-
-“Well, how’s you goin’ to ride in an’ out if dere ain’t no choo-choos
-to pull de cars?”
-
-“Well, I’ll tell you, Tod, I guess that’s one of the things that the
-Bible don’t tell folks about heaven. You know papa says that there’s
-lots of things the Lord don’t let people know ’bout heaven; ’cause it’
-none of their business, an’ I guess that’s one of ’em.”
-
-“Wish dere’d be some more Bibles, den! I wantsh to know lotsh more
-fingsh.”
-
-“Well, anyhow,” said Budge, “we’re goin’ home to-day, an’ that fills
-me so full I ain’t got room for the littlest speck of heaven. Wonder
-who’s goin’ to take us, an’ when we’re a-goin’, an’ ev’rything?
-Let’s go ask Uncle Harry.”
-
-“Come on!” exclaimed Toddie, “Izh been finkin’ awful hard ’bout how to
-get into his bedroom wifout bein’ scolded, an’ now I know. Hurry up
-’fore we forgets.”
-
-Both boys hurried to the family chamber, and assaulted the door with
-fists and feet.
-
-“’The overture of the angels,’” quoted Mr. Burton, “’and positively
-their last appearance.’”
-
-“Don’t speak of it,” said Mrs. Burton. “I’ve been crying about it in my
-dreams, I believe, and I’m in a condition to begin again.”
-
-“I’ve a great mind to make them cry,” said the man of the house
-savagely. “No scrubbing will take the mark of small shoe-toes out of
-painted wood.”
-
-“Let them kick to their dear little hearts’ content! Not a mark of that
-kind shall ever be insulted by a scrubbing brush. I feel as if I’d like
-to go about the house and kiss everything they’ve touched.”
-
-“You might kiss the sounding board of my violin, then,” said Mr.
-Burton, “where there’s an ineffaceable scratch from a nail in Toddie’s
-shoe, placed there on the morning of your birthday anniversary. There’s
-a nice generous blot on the wood of the writing-desk, too, where Toddie
-upset a bottle of violet ink. Would that your kisses could efface
-the stain that the cabinet-maker says is indelible. Then there are
-some dingy streaks on the wall beside their bed, where they’ve lain
-crosswise and rubbed their heads against the wall.”
-
-“It shall remain forever,” said the lady.
-
-“What! in your darling spare chamber?”
-
-A violent mental struggle showed its indications in Mrs. Burton’s face,
-but she replied:
-
-“The furniture can be changed. We can put a screen in front of the
-place; we’ll change the room in any way, excepting their blessed tokens
-of occupation.”
-
-But none of this devotion found its way through the keyhole to shame
-the boys into silence, for the noise increased until Mrs. Burton
-herself hastened to draw the bolt.
-
-“It’s us,” was the unnecessary information, volunteered by Budge as
-the door opened; “an’ we want to know when we’re goin’ home, an’
-who’s goin’ to take us, an’ how, an’ what you’re goin’ to give us to
-remember you by, an’ we don’t care to have it flowers, ’cause we’ve
-got plenty of ’em at home.”
-
-“Fruit-cake would be nicesht,” suggested Toddie. “Folks ’members that
-an awful long time, ’cause when mamma once asked papa if he ’membered
-de fruit-cake at Mrs. Birch’s party he looked drefful sad, an’ said
-he couldn’t ever forget it. Say, Aunt Alish, don’t you get extra nice
-dinners for folks dat’s goin’ away? Mamma always doesh; says dey need
-it, cauzh folks need to be well-feeded when they’e goin’ to travel.”
-[The distance from the Burton residence to that of the Lawrences was
-about a quarter of a mile.]
-
-“You shall have a good-by dinner, Toddie, dear,” said Mrs. Burton; “and
-the very nicest one that I can prepare.”
-
-“Better make it a brekspup,” suggested Toddie. “Mebbe we’ll be come for
-’fore dinner-time.”
-
-“You sha’n’t be taken until you get it, dear.”
-
-“I ’pects I’ll have an awful good dinner waitin’ for us, too, when we
-get home,” said Budge; “’cause that’s the way the papa in the Bible
-did, an’ yet he had only one boy come home instead of two, an’ he’d
-been bad.”
-
-“What portion of the Scriptural narrative is that child running into
-now?” asked Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Aunt Alice don’t know who you’re talking about, Budge,” said Mr.
-Burton. “Explain it to her.”
-
-“Why, that boy that his papa made a dinner out of fat veal for,” said
-Budge; “though I never could see how that was a very nice dinner.”
-
-“Worse and worse,” sighed Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Tell us all about it, old fellow,” said Mr. Burton. “We don’t know
-what you’re driving at.”
-
-“Why,” exclaimed Budge, “are you bad folks that don’t read your
-Bible-books? I thought everybody knew about him. Why, he was a boy
-that went to his papa one day and told him that whatever he was goin’
-to give him as long as he lived, he wished he’d give it to him all at
-once. An’ his papa did. Wasn’t he a lovely papa, though? So the boy
-took the money, an’ went travelin’, an’ had larks. There’s a picture
-about it all in Tommy Bryan’ mamma’s parlor, but I don’t think it’s
-very larkey; he’s just a-sittin’ down with a whole lot of women
-actin’ like geese all around him. But he had to pay money to have
-larks, an’ he had such lots of ’em that pretty soon he didn’t have
-no money. Say, Uncle Harry, why don’t people have all the money they
-want?”
-
-“That’s the world’s prize conundrum,” said Mr. Burton. “Ask me
-something easier.”
-
-“I’m goin’ to have all the money I wantsh when I gets growed,” said
-Toddie.
-
-“How are you going to get it?” asked his uncle, with natural interest.
-
-“Goin’ to be real good, an’ then ashk de Lord for it,” said Toddie.
-“Wonder where de Lord keepsh de lotsh of nysh fings he’ goin’ to give
-good people when dey ashk Him for ’em?--money and fings?”
-
-“Why, in heaven, of course,” said Budge.
-
-“Hazh He got a savin’ bank an’ a toy-store?” asked Toddie.
-
-“Sh--h--h!” whispered Mrs. Burton.
-
-“He’s only talking of what grown people expect, my dear,” said Mr.
-Burton. “Go on, Budge.”
-
-“Well, he didn’t have any more money, an’ he couldn’t write to his
-papa for some, ’cause there wasn’t any post offices in that country, so
-he went to work for a man, an’ the man made him feed pigs, and he had
-to eat the same things that the pigs ate. I don’t know whether he ate
-them out of a troff or not.”
-
-“It’s a great pity that you are in doubt on that point,” said Mr.
-Burton.
-
-“He could play in de mud like de pigs, couldn’t he?” said Toddie. “His
-papa was too far away to know about it, an’ to say ‘Don’t!’s at him.”
-
-“I s’pose so,” said Budge, “but I don’t think a boy could feel much
-like playin’ with mud when he had to eat with the pigs. Well, he went
-along bein’ a pig-feeder, when all at once he ’membered that there was
-always enough to eat at his papa’s house. Say, Uncle Harry, boys is
-alike everywhere, ain’t they?”
-
-“I suppose so, present company excepted. But what reminded you of it?”
-
-“Why, he wanted to go home when he couldn’t hook enough from the pigs
-to fill his stomach, an’ my papa says little boys that can’t be found
-when their mamma wants ’em always start for home when they get hungry.
-That’s what this boy off in another country did--papa says the Bible
-don’t tell whether he told the man to get another pig-feeder, or
-whether he just skooted in a hurry. But, anyhow, he got pretty near
-home, an’ I guess he felt awful ashamed of himself an’ went along the
-back road; for, in the picture of our big Bible-book, his clothes are
-awful ragged an’ mussy, an’ he must have been sure he was goin’ to
-get scolded an’ wish he could get in the back door an’ go up to his
-room without anybody seein’ him.”
-
-“Oh, Harry!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton. “This is growing perfectly
-dreadful. It’ positively sacrilegious.”
-
-“The application is the only sacred part of the original, my dear,”
-said Mr. Burton, “and you may trust that boy to discover the point of
-anything. I wish doctors of divinity were like him. Go ahead, Budge.”
-
-“Well, he was sneakin’ along, an’ gettin’ behind trees an’ fences
-whenever he saw anybody comin’ that he knew, when all at once his papa
-saw him. Papas always can see farther than anybody else, I believe,
-an’ they always kind o’s know when their boys are comin’, an’ they
-just look as if they’d always been standin’ right there waitin’ for
-’em. An’ that pig-feeder’s papa ran right out of the house without his
-hat on--that’s the way he is in the picture in the big Bible-book, an’
-grabbed him, an’ kissed him, an’ hugged him so hard that he had to
-grunt, an’----”
-
-“An’ he didn’t say ‘Why, how did you get your clozhezh so dyty,’s
-eiver?” said Toddie.
-
-“No, indeed! An’ the pig-feeder said he’d been a bad boy, an’ he
-guessed he’d better eat his dinner in the kitchen after that, but his
-papa wouldn’t let him. He put clean clothes on him, an’ gave him a new
-pair of shoes, an’ put a ring on his finger.”
-
-“Ringsh ain’t good to eat,” said Toddie. “I fwallowed one once, I did,
-an’ it didn’t taste nohow at all. And den I had to take some nashty
-medshin, an’ de ring came unfwallowed again.”
-
-“He didn’t give him the ring to eat, you silly boy,” said Budge. “Rings
-squeeze fingers all the time, an’ let folks know how the folks that
-give ’em the rings want to squeeze ’em all the time. Then they killed
-a whole calf--’cause the pig-feeder was awful empty, you know, an’
-they had a jolly old time. An’ the pig-feeder’s big brother heard ’em
-all cuttin’ up, an’ he was real cross about it, ’cause he’d always
-been good, an’ there hadn’t ever been any tea-parties made for him.
-But his papa said, ‘Oh, don’t say a word--we’ve got your brother back
-again--just think of that, my boy.’s I’m awful sorry for that big
-brother, though; I know how he felt, for when Tod’s bad, an’ I’m good
-papa just takes Tod in his lap an’ talks to him, an’ hugs him, an’
-I feel awful lonesome an’ wish I wasn’t good a bit.”
-
-“And what do you suppose the bad boy’ mamma did when she saw him?”
-asked Mr. Burton.
-
-[Illustration: “SOME NASHTY MEDSHIN”]
-
-“Oh,” said Budge, “I guess she didn’t say anythin’, but just looked so
-sad at him that he made up his mind he wouldn’t ever do a naughty thing
-again as long as he lived, an’ after that he’d stand behind her chair
-whole half-hours at a time just to look at her where she wouldn’t catch
-him at it.”
-
-“And what do you think that whole story means, Budge?” asked Mrs.
-Burton, determined to impress at least one prominent theological
-deduction upon her nephew.
-
-“Why, it means that good papas can always see when bad boys is real
-ashamed of themselves,” said Budge, “an’ know it’s best to be real
-sweet to ’em then, an’ that papas that can’t see and don’t know better
-than to scold ’em they needn’t ever expect to see their bad little boys
-come home again.”
-
-Mrs. Burton started, and her husband laughed inwardly at this unusual
-application, but the lady recovered herself and returned in haste to
-her point.
-
-“Don’t you think it’s intended to teach us anything about the Lord?”
-she asked.
-
-“Why, yes,” said Budge, “of course. He is the best of all papas, so
-he’ll be better to his bad children than any other good papas know how
-to be.”
-
-“That’s what the story is meant to teach,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“I thought everybody knew that about the Lord.” Budge replied.
-
-“If they did, Jesus would never have told the story,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Oh, I s’pose those old Jews had to be told it,” said Budge, “’cause
-folks used to be awful bad to their children, an’ believe the Lord
-would be awful bad to them.”
-
-“People need to be told the same story now, Budge,” continued Mrs.
-Burton. “They love to hear it, and know how good the Lord is willing to
-be to them.”
-
-“Do they love it better than to learn how good they ought to be to
-their children?” Budge asked. “Then I think they’re piggish. I wouldn’t
-like my papa an’ mamma to be that way. They say that it’s gooder to
-care for what you can give than what you can get. An’ Uncle Harry
-hasn’t told us yet when we’re goin’ home, and who’s goin’ to take us.”
-
-“Your papa is going to come for you as he returns from the city,” said
-Mr. Burton. “I think he wants to tell you something before you go home;
-you little boys don’t know yet how to act in a house where there’s sick
-mammas and little babies.”
-
-“Oh, yes, we do,” said Budge. “All we’ve got to do is to sit still an’
-look at ’em with all our mights.”
-
-“Only dzust dzump up ev’ry two or free minutes to kiss ’em,” suggested
-Toddie.
-
-“Yes,” said Budge, “an’ to pat their cheeks an’ to put nice things to
-eat in their mouths, like papa an’ mamma does to us, when we’re sick.”
-
-“An’ make music for ’em,” said Toddie.
-
-“An’ give ’em pennies,” said Budge.
-
-“An’ shake their savings banks for ’em to make de pennies rattle, like
-Budgie did for me once when I was too sick to rattle my own bank,” said
-Toddie, bestowing a frantic hug upon his brother.
-
-“An’ put the room to rights for ’em,” said Budge.
-
-“An’ bring ’em in nice mud-pies all ready baked, like I did once for
-Budgie, to play wif on de bed when he was sick,” said Toddie.
-
-“An’ dance for ’em,” suggested Budge. “That’s the way I used to do for
-Baby Phillie, an’ it always made him happy.”
-
-“An’ put up pictures on de wall for ’em,” said Toddie; “we’s got whole
-newspapers full that we’s cutted out up in your garret; and dere’s a
-whole bottle of mucilage----”
-
-“My war file of illustrated papers!” explained Mr. Burton. “How did
-they find that? Oh, this cross of love!”
-
-“Whole bottle of mucilage in papa’s room to stick ’em on wif,”
-continued Toddie; “an’ mamma’s room is nice pink, like de leaves of my
-scrap-book dat pictures look so pretty on.”
-
-“And these are the child-ideas of being good and useful!” exclaimed
-Mrs. Burton, as the boys forgot everything else in the discovery of
-their uncle’s razor-strop with an extension at one end.
-
-“Yes,” sighed Mr. Burton, “and they’re not much nearer the proper
-thing, in spite of their good intentions, than the plans of grown
-people for the management of children, the reformation of the world,
-and a great many other things.”
-
-“Harry!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton.
-
-“No personal allusion, my dear,” said her husband, quickly. “I’d no
-thought of anything of the kind. Adults and children alike mean well
-enough; the difference is that the former wonder why their ideas are
-not appreciated while with the children the energies of parents and
-teachers are devoted to treating mistaken opinions as great sins. How
-many children could do the kindnesses which Budge and Toddie have
-devised out of the tenderness of their dear little hearts and not be
-scolded and whipped for their pains? Hosts of children have had all the
-good blood and kind heart and honest head scolded and beaten out of
-them, and only the baser qualities of their natures allowed to grow,
-and these only because in youth many of them are dormant and don’t make
-trouble.”
-
-“Harry, what a preacher you are!--what a terrible preacher!” exclaimed
-Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Where does the terror come in?” asked Mr. Burton, with signs of that
-indignation which every man with an idea in advance of his generation
-must frequently be afflicted by.
-
-“Why, to imply that there’s so much injustice being done to children.”
-
-“Of course the saying of it is worse than the fact of its existence,”
-said Mr. Burton, with a curl of the lip.
-
-“Please don’t speak in that cruel way, Harry. It isn’t anything of the
-sort--excepting for a moment or two.”
-
-Mr. Burton apologized, and restored confidence without saying a word,
-and then the couple turned instinctively to look at the first causes of
-their conversation, but the boys were gone.
-
-“The tocsin of their souls, the dinner-bell--breakfast-bell, I mean,
-has probably sounded,” said Mr. Burton; “and I’m as hungry as a bear
-myself. Let’s descend and see what they’ve succeeded in doing within
-five brief minutes.”
-
-The Burtons found the dining-room, but not the boys and the chambermaid
-was sent in search of them. The meal was slowly consumed but the boys
-did not appear.
-
-“You’d better have the cook prepare something additional,” suggested
-Mr. Burton, as he arose and started for his train. “The appetite of the
-small boy is a principal that accumulates frightful usury in a very
-small while after maturity.”
-
-Mrs. Burton acted upon her husband’ suggestion, and busied herself
-about household affairs for an hour or more, until, learning that
-the boys had not yet arrived, she strolled out to search for them.
-Supposing that they might have been overpowered by their impatience
-so far as to have gone home at once, she visited the residence of her
-sister-in-law, and inquired of Mike.
-
-“Dhivil a bit have they been here,” replied Michael. “Ain’t me ould
-eyes sore for the soight av ’em all the whoile ag’in? They’re nowhere
-about here, rest ye aisy.”
-
-“I’m afraid they may be lost,” said Mrs. Burton.
-
-Mike burst into a prolonged horse laugh, and then, recovering himself
-by sundry contortions and swallowings, he replied:
-
-“Beggin’ yez pardon, ma’am, but I couldn’t help it--as the blessed
-Virgin is smoilin’ in heaven, I cuddent--but thim byes can niver be
-lost. Lost, is it? Cud ye lose a ghost or a bird? They’ll foind their
-way anywhere they’ve been once, an’ if they haven’t been there before
-they’ll belave they have, an’ foind their way out all roight. Lave yer
-boddher till dinner-time, an’ mark me wurruds ye’ll foind ye’ve no
-nade av it. Losht!” and Mike burst into another laugh that he hurried
-into the stable to hide while Mrs. Burton returned to her home with a
-mind almost quiet.
-
-The morning ended, however, and no small boys appeared at the table.
-Mrs. Burton’s fears came back with increased strength and she hurried
-off again to Mike and implored him to go in search of the children. The
-sight of an ugly looking tramp or two by the way suggested kidnapping
-to Mrs. Burton and brought tears to her eyes. Even the doubting Mike,
-when he learned that the children had eaten nothing that day, grew
-visibly alarmed and mounted one of his master’s horses in hot haste.
-
-“Where are you going first, Mike?” asked Mrs. Burton.
-
-“Dhivil a bit do I know!” exclaimed Mike; “but I’m goin’ to foind ’em,
-an’ may the blessed saints go with me!”
-
-Away galloped Mike, and Mrs. Burton, fearing that the alarm might
-reach the boys’ mother, hurried home, started the cook on one road,
-the chambermaid on another, and herself on a third, while Mike sought
-the candystore, the schoolhouse, sundry bridges over brooks, and the
-various other places that boys delight in. Mrs. Burton’s own course
-was along a road leading up the rugged, heavily wooded hill called by
-courtesy a mountain, but she paused so many times, to call, to listen,
-to step considerably out of her way to see if dimly descried figures
-were not those of her nephews, and to discover that what seemed in the
-forest to be boyish figures were only stumps or bushes, that she spent
-at least two hours upon the road, which doubled many times upon itself.
-Suddenly she saw in the road beyond her a familiar figure dragging a
-large green bough.
-
-“Budge!” she screamed and ran toward him. The little figure turned
-its head, and Mrs. Burton was shocked to see a haggard face, whose
-whiteness intensified the starting eyes, pink, distended nostrils, and
-thin, drawn lips of her nephew. And upon the bough, holding to one
-of the upper sprigs tightly with one hand, while with the other he
-clutched something green and crumpled, lay Toddie, dust-encrusted from
-head to foot.
-
-“Oh! what has happened?” Mrs. Burton exclaimed.
-
-Toddie raised his head and explained.
-
-“Izhe a shotted soldier bein’ tookted to where de shooters can’t catch
-me, like sometimes dey used to be in de war.”
-
-Budge dropped in the road and cried.
-
-“Oh, what is it?” cried Mrs. Burton, kneeling beside Toddie, and taking
-him in her arms. And Toddie replied:
-
-“Ow!”
-
-“Budge, dear,” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, releasing Toddie, and hurrying to
-his brother, “what has happened? Do tell me!”
-
-Budge opened his eyes and mouth reluctantly, and replied with a thin
-voice:
-
-“Wait till I get alive again, an’ I’ll tell you. I haven’t got many
-words inside of me now; they’re all dropped out, I’m so tired, and,
-oh----”
-
-[Illustration: “I’ZHE A SHOTTED SOLDIER”]
-
-Budge closed his eyes again. Mrs. Burton picked him up tenderly, sat
-upon a large stone, rocked back and forth, kissed him repeatedly, cried
-over him, while Toddie turned upon his stomach, surveyed the scene with
-apparent satisfaction, and said:
-
-“Say, Aunt Alish, it’s djolly to be a shotted soldier.”
-
-Budge slowly recovered, put his arm around his aunt tightly, and said:
-
-“Oh, Aunt Alice, ’twas awful!”
-
-“Tell me all about it, dear, when you feel well enough. Where have you
-been all day? Aunty’s heart has been almost broken about you.”
-
-“Why, you see, we wanted to do something nice for you, ’fore we went
-home to stay, ’cause you’ve been so nice to us. Why, when we talked
-about it, we couldn’t think of a single unpleasant thing you’d done to
-us--though I’m sure you done a lot. Anyhow, we couldn’t ’member any.”
-
-“’Cept sayin’ ‘Don’t!’s lotzh of timesh,” said Toddie.
-
-“Well,” said Budge, “Tod thought ’bout that, but we made up our minds
-perhaps we needed that said to us. An’ we couldn’t think of anything
-nicer than to get you some wild flowers. Ev’rybody’s got tame flowers,
-you know, so we thought wild ones would be nicer. An’ we thought we
-could get ’em ’fore breakbux if we’d hurry, so off we came right up to
-the foot of the mountains, but there wasn’t any. I guess they wasn’t
-awake yet, or else they’d gone to sleep. Then we didn’t know what to
-do.”
-
-“’Cept get you some bych [birch] bark,” said Toddie.
-
-“Yes,” said Budge; “but birch bark is to eat, an’ not to look at; an’
-we wanted to give you somethin’ you could see, an’ remember us a few
-days by.”
-
-“An’ all of a sudden I said ’fynes!’ [ferns],” said Toddie.
-
-“Yes,” said Budge, “Tod said it first, but I thought it the same
-second. An’ there’ lovely ferns up in the rocks. Don’t you see?”
-
-Mrs. Burton looked, and shuddered. The cliff above her head was a
-hundred feet high, jagged all over its front, yet from every crevice
-exquisite ferns posed their peaceful fronds before the cold gray of the
-rock.
-
-“’Twasn’t here,” Budge continued. “’Twas ’way up around the corner,
-where the rocks ain’t so high, but they’re harder to climb. We climbed
-up here first.”
-
-“You dreadful, darling children!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, giving Budge
-a squeeze of extra severity. “To think of two little children going up
-such a dreadful place! Why, it makes me dizzy to see your Uncle Harry
-do it.”
-
-“Ain’t childrens, when we climb mountainsh!” asserted Toddie; “we’zh
-mans den.”
-
-“Well,” Budge continued, “we got lots, and throwed each one away ’cause
-we kept seein’ nicer ones higher up. Say, Aunt Alice, what’s the
-reason things higher up always look extra nice?”
-
-“I know,” said Toddie.
-
-“Why is it, Toddie?” Mrs. Burton asked.
-
-“’Cauzh deysh closer to hebben,” said Toddie. “G’won, Budgie. I likes
-to hear ’bout it, too.”
-
-“Well, at last we got to a place where the rocks all stopped and some
-more began. An’ up on them was the loveliest ferns of all.”
-
-“An’ I went up dat mountain fyst, I did,” said Toddie.
-
-“Yes, Tod did, the blessed little sassy rascal,” said Budge, blowing
-a kiss to his brother. “I told him I didn’t believe that any ferns was
-nicer than any others, but he said, ‘Lord’ll make ’em so den, for Aunt
-Alish.’s An’ up he went, just like a spider.”
-
-“Went up fyst,” said Toddie.
-
-“’Course you did,” said Budge. “’Cause I didn’t go up at all. And Tod
-was pullin’ at a big fern with his back to me, an’ the first thing I
-knew there he was in the air layin’ down sideways on nothin’. Then he
-hollered.”
-
-“’Cauzh I camed down bunk on whole lotch of little rocks,” explained
-Toddie. “But I didn’t lose the fyne--here tizh!” and Toddie held up a
-badly crushed and wilted ball of something that had once been a fern,
-seeing which Mrs. Burton placed Budge on the stone, hurried to Toddie,
-thrust the bruised fern into her bosom, and kissed its captor soundly.
-
-“Hold me some more,” said Budge, “I don’t feel very good yet.”
-
-“Then what did you do?” asked Mrs. Burton, resuming her position as
-nurse.
-
-“Why, Tod went on hollerin’, an’ he couldn’t walk, so I helped him
-down to the road, an’ he couldn’t walk yet----”
-
-Mrs. Burton had turned again to Toddie, and carefully examined his legs
-without finding any broken bones.
-
-“The hurt is in de bottom part of my leg an’ de top part of my foot,”
-said Toddie, who had turned his ankle.
-
-“An’ he just hollered ‘mam-_ma_’s and ‘pa-_pa_,’ so sad,” continued
-Budge. “An’ ’twas awful. An’ I looked up the road an’ there wasn’t
-anybody, an’ down the front of the mountain and there wasn’t anybody,
-an’ I didn’t know what to do, ’cause ’twouldn’t do to go ’way off home
-to tell, when a poor little brother was feelin’ so dreadful bad. Then
-I ’membered how papa said he’d sometimes seen shot soldiers carried
-away when there wasn’t any wagons. So I pulled at the limb of a tree to
-get the thing to drag him on.”
-
-“Why, Budge!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, “you don’t mean to say you got
-that bough all alone by yourself, do you?”
-
-“Well, no, I guess not,” said Budge, hesitatingly. “I pulled at one
-after another, but not one of them would split, and then I thought of
-somethin’ an’ kneeled right down by the tree, an’ told the Lord
-all about it, an’ told Him I knew He didn’t want poor little hurt Tod
-to lie there all day, an’ wouldn’t He please help me break a limb
-to draw him on? An’ when I got up off of my knees I was as strong
-as forty thousand horses. I don’t think I needed the Lord to help me
-a bit then. An’ I just gave one pull at the limb, an’ down it came
-kersplit, an’ I put Tod on it, an’ dragged him. But I tell you it was
-hard work!”
-
-“’Twash fun, too,” said Toddie, “’cept when it went where dere was
-little rocks in de road, an’ dey came up an’ hitted de hurt playsh.”
-
-“I dragged it in the soft parts of the road,” said Budge, “whenever I
-could, but sometimes there wasn’t any soft place all across the road.
-An’ things jumped inside of me--that little heart-engine, you know,
-awfully. I could only go about a dozen steps without stoppin’ to
-rest. An’ then Tod stopped cryin’ an’ said he was hungry, an’ that
-reminded me that I was hungry, too.”
-
-“But we didn’t lose the fyne,” said Toddie.
-
-Mrs. Burton took the memento from her breast and kissed it.
-
-“Why,” said Budge, “you like it, don’t you? All right, then. Tod an’
-me don’t care for bothers an’ hurts now, do we, Tod?”
-
-“No, indeedy,” said Toddie. “Not when we can ride like shotted
-soldiers, an’ get home to get breakbux an’ lunch togevver.”
-
-“Neither of you shall have any more trouble about getting home,” said
-Mrs. Burton. “Just sit here quietly while I go and send a carriage for
-you.”
-
-“Oh!” said Budge. “That’ll be lovely; won’t it, Tod? Ain’t you glad you
-got hurt? But say? Aunt Alice, haven’t you got any crackers in your
-pocket?”
-
-“Why, no--certainly not!” exclaimed the lady, temporarily losing her
-tenderness.
-
-“Oh! I thought you might have. Papa always does, when he goes out to
-look for us when we stay away from home a good while.”
-
-Suddenly a horse’s hoofs were heard on the road below.
-
-“I shouldn’t wonder if that was Mike,” said Mrs. Burton. “He has been
-out on horseback, looking for you.”
-
-“I shouldn’t wonder if ’twas papa,” said Budge. “He’s the funniest man
-for always comin’ anywhere first when we need him most.”
-
-“An’ wif crackers,” Toddie added.
-
-The clattering hoofs came nearer, though slower, and, true to the
-children’s intuitions, around the bend of the road came Tom Lawrence
-on horseback, an old army haversack and canteen slung over his shoulder.
-
-“Papa!” shouted both boys. “Hooray!” Tom Lawrence waved his hat, and
-Toddie shouted, “He’s got de crackers! I see de bag!” The father reined
-up suddenly and dismounted, Budge rushed to his arms, and Toddie
-exclaimed,
-
-“Papa, guesh it’s a long time since you’ seen a shotted soldier, ain’t
-it?”
-
-Then Toddie was placed in the saddle, and Budge behind him, and the
-precious haversack was opened and found to contain sandwiches, and
-both boys tried to drink out of the canteen, and poured a great deal
-of water into their bosoms, and Tom led the horse carefully, and Mrs.
-Burton walked upon one side, with a hand under Toddie’s lame leg to
-keep the bruised ankle from touching the saddle, and she did not
-swerve from the middle of the dusty road, even when carriages full of
-stylish acquaintances were met, and both little heroes, like men of
-larger growth, forgot at once that they had ever been heroic, and they
-prattled as inconsequently as any couple of silly children could, and
-the horse was led by a roundabout road so that no one might see the
-party and apprise Mrs. Lawrence that anything unusual had happened, and
-the boys were heavily bribed to tell their mother nothing until their
-father had explained, and they were carried in, each in his father’
-arms, to kiss their mamma; and when they undressed and went to bed,
-the sister-baby was, by special dispensation of the nurse, allowed to
-lie between them for a few moments, and the evening ceremonies were
-prolonged by the combined arts of boys and parent, and then Budge knelt
-and prayed:
-
-“Dear Lord, we’re awful glad to get back again, ’cause nobody can be
-like papa and mamma to us, an’ I’m so thankful I don’t know what to do
-for bein’ made so strong when I wanted to break that limb off of the
-tree, and bless dear Aunt Alice for findin’ us, and bless poor uncle
-more, ’cause he tried to find us, and was disappointed, and make every
-little boy’s papa just like ours, to come to ’em just when they need
-him, just like you. Amen.”
-
-And Toddie shut his eyes in bed, and said,
-
-“Dee Lord, I went up de mountain fyst. Don’t forget dat. Amen.”
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII
-
-
-There was a little family conclave at the Lawrence house a fortnight
-later. No deliberative meeting had been intended; quite the contrary;
-for Mrs. Lawrence was on that day to make her first appearance at the
-dinner-table in a month, and Mrs. Burton and her husband were invited
-to step in informally on the occasion, and they had been glad enough to
-do so although the boys, who had been allowed to dine that night with
-the family in honor of the occasion, conversed so volubly that no other
-person at the table could speak without interruption.
-
-But there came an hour when the boys could no longer prolong the usual
-preliminaries of going to bed, although they kissed their parents
-and visitors once as a matter of course, a second time to be sure
-they had done it, and a third time to assure themselves that they
-had forgotten nobody. Then several chats were interrupted by various
-juvenile demands, pleas and questions from the upper floor; but as,
-when Lawrence went in person to answer the last one he found both boys
-sleeping soundly the families devoted themselves to each other with the
-determination of passing a pleasant evening. They talked of what was
-going on in the world, and much that might be going on but was not, the
-blame being due to persons who did not think as they did; they sang,
-played, quoted books, talked pictures and bric-a-brac, and then Mrs.
-Lawrence changed the entire course of conversation by promising to
-replace Mrs. Burton’s chair which the dog Terry had destroyed by special
-arrangement with the boys.
-
-[Illustration: BOTH BOYS SLEEPING SOUNDLY]
-
-“You sha’n’t do anything of the sort!” said Mrs. Burton. “Keep the dear
-little scamps from playing such pranks on any one who don’t happen to
-love them so well, and I’ll forgive them.”
-
-“You don’t imagine for a moment that they knew what the result would be
-when they tied Terry to the chair, do you?” Mrs. Lawrence asked.
-
-“Never!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, emphatically, “but they did it, and it
-might have happened somewhere else, with people who didn’t love them so
-well, and what would they have thought?”
-
-“She means that strangers would have imagined your boys a couple of
-little boors, Nell,” said Mr. Burton to his sister.
-
-“Strangers know nothing whatever about other people’s children,” said
-Mrs. Lawrence with dignity, “and they should therefore have nothing to
-do with them and pass no opinions upon them. No one estimates children
-by what they are; they only judge by the amount of trouble they make.”
-
-“Now you’ve done it, Mistress Alice,” said Mr. Burton to his wife. “It
-is better to meet a she-bear that is robbed of her whelps than a mother
-whose children are criticized by any one but herself.”
-
-“I’ve done it!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton. “Who translated my quiet remark
-into something offensive. Besides, you’ve misapplied Scripture only
-to suggest things worse yet. If I’m not mistaken, the proverb about
-the she-bear and her whelps has something in it about a fool and his
-folly. Do you mean to insinuate such insulting ideas about your sister
-and her darlings?”
-
-But no amount of badinage could make Mrs. Lawrence forget that some
-implied advice was secreted in her sister-in-law’s carefully worded
-remark, so she continued,
-
-“I’m extremely sorry they had to go to you, but I couldn’t imagine what
-better to do. I wish Tom could have staid at home all the while to
-take care of them. I hope, if we ever die, they may follow us at once.
-Nothing is so dreadful as the idea of one’s children being perpetually
-misunderstood by some one else, and having their honest little hearts
-hardened and warped just when they should be cared for most patiently
-and tenderly.”
-
-“Helen!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, changing her seat so as to take Mrs.
-Lawrence’ hand, “I’d die for your children at any time, if it would do
-them any good.”
-
-“I believe you, you dear girl,” said Mrs. Lawrence, recovering her
-natural manner, and not entirely unashamed of her outburst of feeling,
-“but you don’t understand it all, as you will some day. The children
-trouble me worse than they ever did or can any one else; but it isn’t
-their fault, and I know it, and can endure it. No one else can. I
-am sure I don’t know how to blame people who are annoyed by juvenile
-pranks.”
-
-“Then what’s to be done with youngsters in general?” Mrs. Burton asked.
-
-“They’re to be kept at home,” said Mrs. Lawrence, “under the eye of
-father or mother continually, until they are large enough to trust; and
-the age at which they’re to be trusted should not be determined by the
-impatience of their parents, either.”
-
-“Don’t be frightened, Allie,” said Tom. “Helen had some of these
-notions before she had any boys of her own to defend.”
-
-“They’re certainly not the result of my children’s happy experiences
-with the best aunt and uncle that ever lived,” said Mrs. Lawrence,
-caressing her adopted sister’ hand. “If you could hear the boys’s
-praises of you both, you’d grow insufferably vain, and imagine
-yourselves born to manage orphan asylums.”
-
-“Heaven forbid!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, the immediate result of her
-utterance being the partial withdrawal of Mrs. Lawrence’ hand. “There
-are only two children in the family----”
-
-“Three,” corrected Mrs. Lawrence promptly.
-
-“Oh, bless me, what have I said!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton. “Well, there
-are only three children in the family, and they are not enough to found
-an asylum, while I feel utterly unfitted to care for any one child that
-I don’t know very well and love very dearly.”
-
-“Is it possible that any one can learn so much in so short a time?”
-exclaimed Tom Lawrence. “Harry, my boy, you’re to be congratulated.”
-
-“Upon having educated me?” Mrs. Burton asked.
-
-“Upon the rare wisdom with which he selected a wife, or, the special
-favor he found at the court where matches are made,” Tom explained.
-
-“Harry didn’t select me at all,” said Mrs. Burton. “Budge did it for
-him, so of course the match was decreed in heaven. But may I know of
-what my sudden acquisition of knowledge consists? If there’s anything
-in my experience with the boys that I am not to feel humiliated about,
-I should be extremely glad to know of it. I went into the valley of
-humiliation within an hour of their arrival, and since then I’ve
-scarcely been out of it.”
-
-“If it weren’t for being suspected of throwing moral deductions at
-people,” Tom replied, “I would say that that same valley of humiliation
-is very prolific of discoveries. But, preaching aside, no one can
-manage children without first loving them. Even a heart full of love
-has to make room for a lot of sorrow over blunders and failures.”
-
-“I’ve learned that affection is absolutely necessary,” said Mrs.
-Burton, “but I confess that I don’t see clearly that love requires that
-one should be trampled upon, wheedled, made of no account and without
-authority in one’s own house, submit to anything, in fact----”
-
-“Now you’ve done it again,” whispered Mr. Burton to his wife, as Helen
-Lawrence’ cheek began to flush, and that maternal divinity replied:
-
-“Does the parent of all of us resign his authority when he humors us in
-our childish ways because we can’t comprehend any greater ones? Every
-concession is followed by growth on the part of his children, if they
-are honest; when they are not, it seems to me that the concessions
-aren’t made. But my children are honest.”
-
-Mrs. Burton’s lips were parting, seeing which her husband whispered,
-
-“Don’t!”
-
-There was a moment or two of silence; then Mrs. Burton asked:
-
-“How are people to know when they’re not being imposed upon by
-children? You can’t apply to the funny little beings the rules that
-explain the ways of grown people.”
-
-“Is it the most dreadful thing in the world to be imposed upon by a
-child?” asked Tom. “We never impose upon them, do we? We never give
-them unfair answers, arbitrary commands, unkind restrictions, simply to
-save ourselves a little extra labor or thought?”
-
-“Tom!” Mrs. Burton exclaimed; “I don’t do anything of the sort, I am
-sure.”
-
-“Why will you display so touchy a conscience, then?” whispered her
-husband. “If you continue to put up your defense the instant Tom
-launches a criticism, he’ll begin to suspect you of dreadful cruelty to
-the boys.”
-
-“Not I,” laughed Tom.
-
-“She had you to reform, for half a year before the boys visited her,”
-said Helen, “and you still live.”
-
-“But, Tom, seriously now, you don’t mean to have me infer that children
-shouldn’t be made to mind, and be prevented from doing things that can
-bother their elders?” asked Mr. Burton.
-
-“Certainly they should have to obey,” said Tom, “but I’d rather they
-wouldn’t, if at the same time they must learn, as in general they do,
-that obedience is imposed more for the benefit of their elders than
-themselves.”
-
-“I was always taught to obey,” said Mrs. Burton, with the not unusual
-though always unconscious peculiarity of supposing the recital of
-personal experience to be a sufficient argument and precedent.
-
-“Do you find the habit still strong in her, Harry?” asked Tom.
-
-“_Do_ I!” exclaimed Harry, with a mock tragic air, “’could I the
-horrors of my prison house unfold,’s you would see that the obedient
-member of the Burton family never appears in gowns.”
-
-“Certainly not,” said Mrs. Burton. “Didn’t he promise to be mine, and
-shall I neglect my responsibilities? I obeyed my parents.”
-
-“And never doubted that their orders were wise, beneficent, and
-necessary, of course?” asked Lawrence.
-
-[Illustration: THE OBEDIENT MEMBER OF THE BURTON FAMILY]
-
-“Tom, Tom!” said Helen, warningly; “if you don’t want Alice to abuse
-other people’s children be careful what you say about other children’s
-parents. Don’t play grand inquisitor.”
-
-“Oh, not at all,” said Tom, hastily. “But I should like to borrow
-woman’ curiosity for a while, and have it gratified in this particular
-case.”
-
-“I don’t know that I always admitted the wisdom of my parents’s
-commands,” said Mrs. Burton; “but how could I? I was only a child.”
-
-“You rendered unquestioning obedience in spirit as well as in act, when
-you became a young lady, then?” pursued Tom.
-
-“No, I didn’t. There!” Mrs. Burton exclaimed; “but what return can a
-child make for parental care and suffering, except to at least seem to
-be a model of compliance with its parents’s desires?”
-
-“Good!” exclaimed Harry. “And what can a husband, who knows that his
-own way is best, do to recompense wifely companionship but meekly do as
-his wife wants him to, no matter how incorrect her ideas?”
-
-“He can listen to reason and not be a conceited goose,” said Mrs.
-Burton; “and he can refrain from impeding the flow of brotherly
-instruction.”
-
-“Tom shall say whatever he likes,” said Mr. Burton.
-
-Mrs. Lawrence’s smile showed that she would be satisfied with the
-result, and her husband continued:
-
-“Children--ninety-nine one-hundredths of those I’ve seen, at least,
-are treated as necessary nuisances by their parents. The good fathers
-and mothers would be horrified to realize this truth, and when it
-accidentally presents itself, as it frequently does to any with heart
-and head, its appearance is so unpleasing and perplexing that they
-promptly take refuge in tradition. Weren’t they brought up in the same
-way? To be sure, it’s the application of the same rule that has always
-made the ex-slave the cruelest of overseers, and the ex-servant the
-worst of masters; but such comparisons are odious to one’s pride, and
-what chance has self-respect when pride steps down before it?”
-
-“Poor human nature!” sighed Harry. “You’ll get to Adam’s fall pretty
-soon, won’t you, Tom?”
-
-“Don’t fear,” laughed Mr. Lawrence. “It’ the falling of later people
-that troubles me--that, and their willingness to stay down when they’ve
-tumbled and the calmness with which they can lie quiet and crush poor
-little children who aren’t responsible for being under them. Adam knew
-enough to wish himself back in his honorable position, but most parents
-have had no lofty position to which they could look longingly back,
-and but few of them can remember any such place having been in the
-possession of any member of their respective families.”
-
-“But what is to be done, even if any one wishes to live up to your
-ideal standard as a guardian of children?” Mrs. Burton asked. “Submit
-to any and every imposition; allow every misdeed to go unpunished; be
-the ruled instead of the ruler?”
-
-“Oh, no,” said Tom, “it’s something far harder than that. It’s to live
-for the children instead of one’s self.”
-
-“And have all your nice times spoiled and your plans upset?”
-
-“Yes, unless they’re really of more value than human life and human
-character,” Tom replied. “You indicated the proper starting point in
-your last remark; if you’ll study that for yourself, you’ll learn a
-great deal more than I can tell you, and learn it more pleasantly too.”
-
-“I don’t care to study,” said Mrs. Burton, “when I can get my
-information at second-hand.”
-
-“Go on, Tom,” said Mr. Burton, “Continue to appear in your character of
-the ‘Parental Encyclopædist’; we’ll try to stop one ear so that what
-goes in at the other shall not be lost.”
-
-“I only want to say that the plans and good times spoiled by the
-children are what ruin every promising generation. The child should
-be taught, but instead of that he is only restrained. He should be
-encouraged to learn the meaning and the essence of whatever of the
-inevitable is forced upon him from year to year; but he soon learns
-that children’s questions are as unwelcome as tax-collectors or
-lightning-rod men. It’s astonishing how few hints are necessary to give
-a child the habit of retiring into himself, and from there to such
-company as he can find to tolerate him.”
-
-“You needn’t fear for your boys, Tom,” said Mr. Burton. “I’d pay
-handsomely for the discovery of a single question which they have ever
-wanted to ask but refrained from putting.”
-
-“And what myriads of them they can ask--not that there’s anything
-wrong about it, the little darlings,” Mrs. Burton added.
-
-“I am glad of it,” said Tom; “but I hope they’ll never again have to go
-to any one but their mother and me for information.”
-
-“Tom, there you go again!” said Mrs. Burton. “Please don’t believe I
-ever refused them an answer or answered unkindly.”
-
-“Certainly you haven’t,” said Tom. “Excuse a stale quotation--’the
-exception proves the rule.’s I’ve really been nervously anxious about
-the soundness of this rule, until you were brought into the family, for
-I never knew another exception.”
-
-“May I humbly suggest that a certain brother-in-law existed before the
-boys had an Aunt Alice?” asked Mr. Burton.
-
-“Oh, yes,” said Tom; “but he was too well rewarded, for the little he
-did, to be worthy of consideration.”
-
-Mrs. Burton inclined her head in acknowledgment of her brother-in-law’s
-compliment, and asked:
-
-“Do you think all children’s questions are put with any distinct
-intention? Don’t you imagine that they ask a great many because they
-don’t know what else to do, or because they want to--to----”
-
-“To talk against time, she means, Tom,” said Mr. Burton.
-
-“Very likely. But the answers are what are of consequence, no matter
-what the motive of the questions may be.”
-
-“What an idea!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton; “really, Tom, aren’t you afraid
-you’re losing yourself?”
-
-“I really hadn’t noticed it,” said Tom; “but perhaps I may be able to
-explain myself more clearly. You go to church?”
-
-“Regularly--every Sunday,” responded Mrs. Burton.
-
-“And always with the most reverent feelings, of course. You never find
-your mind full of idle questionings, or mere curious wondering, or even
-a perfect blank, or a circle upon which your thoughts chase themselves
-around to their starting place without aim or motive?”
-
-“How well you know the ways of the hum-drum mind, Tom,” said Mrs.
-Burton. “You didn’t learn them from your personal experience, of
-course?”
-
-“I wish I hadn’t! But supposing you at some few times in your life have
-gone into the sanctuary in such frames of mind, did you never have
-them changed by what you’ve heard? Did you never have the very common
-experience of learning that it is at these very moments of weakness,
-indecision, blankness, childishness, or whatever you may please to call
-it, the mind becomes peculiarly retentive of whatever of real value
-happens to strike it?”
-
-Mrs. Burton reflected, and by silence signified her assent, but she was
-not fully satisfied with the explanation, for she asked,
-
-“Do you think, then, that all the ways of children are just as they
-should be?--that they never ask questions from any but heaven-ordained
-motives?--that they are utterly devoid of petty guile?”
-
-“They’re human, I believe,” said Mr. Lawrence, “and full of human
-weaknesses, but any other human beings--present company excepted, of
-course--should know by experience how little malice there is in the
-most annoying of people. Certainly children do copy the faults of their
-elders, and--oh, woe is me! inherit the failings of their ancestors,
-but it is astonishing how few they seem to have when the observer will
-forget himself and honestly devote himself to their good. I confess it
-does need the wisdom of Solomon to discover when they are honest and
-when they’re inclined to be tricky.”
-
-“And can you inform us where the wisdom of Solomon is to be procured
-for the purpose?” asked Mrs. Burton.
-
-“From the source at which Solomon obtained it, I suppose,” Tom replied;
-“from an honest, unselfish mind. But it is so much easier to trust to
-selfishness and its twin demon suspicion, that nothing but a pitying
-Providence saves most children from reform schools and penitentiaries.”
-
-“But the superiority of adults--their right to demand implicit,
-unquestioning obedience----”
-
-“Is the most vicious, debasing tyranny that the world is cursed by,
-“Tom exclaimed with startling emphasis.” It gave the old Romans power
-of life and death over their children. It cast some of the vilest blots
-upon the pages of Holy Writ. Nowadays it is worse, for then it worked
-its principal mischief upon the body, but nowadays ‘I say unto you fear
-not them that kill the body, but’--excuse a free rendering--fear them
-who cast both soul and body into hell. You’re orthodox, I believe.”
-
-Mrs. Burton shuddered, but her belief in the rights of adults, which
-she had inherited from a line of ancestors reaching back to Adam or
-protoplasm, was more powerful than her horror, and the latter was
-quickly overcome by the former.
-
-“Then adults have no rights that children are bound to respect?” she
-asked.
-
-“Yes; the right of undoing the failures of their own education and
-doing it for the benefit of beings who are not responsible for their
-own existence. Can you imagine a greater crime than calling a soul into
-existence without its own desire and volition, and then making it your
-slave instead of making yourself its friend?”
-
-“Why, Tom, you’re perfectly dreadful,” exclaimed Mrs. Burton.” One
-would suppose that parents were a lot of pre-ordained monsters!”
-
-“They’re worse,” said Tom; “they’re unthinking people with a lot of
-self-satisfaction, and a reputation for correctness of life. Malicious
-people are easily caught and kept out of mischief by the law. The
-respectable, unintentional evil-doers are those who make most of the
-trouble and suffering in the world.”
-
-“And you propose to go through life dying deaths daily for the sake of
-those children,” said Alice, “rather than make them what you would like
-them to be?”
-
-“No,” said Tom, “I propose to live a new life daily, and learn what
-life should be, for the sake of making them what I would like them to
-be; for I don’t value them so much as conveniences and playthings, as
-for what they may be to themselves, and to a world that sorely needs
-good men.”
-
-“And women,” added Mrs. Lawrence. “I do believe you’ve forgotten the
-baby, you heartless wretch!”
-
-“I accept the amendment,” said Tom, “but the world has already more
-good women than it begins to appreciate.”
-
-“Bless me! what a quantity of governing that poor sister-baby will
-get!” said Mrs. Burton. “But, of course, you don’t call it governing;
-you’ll denominate it self-immolation; you’ll lose your remaining hair,
-and grow ten years older in the first year of its life.”
-
-“I shouldn’t wonder,” said Tom, with an expression of countenance which
-banished the smiles occasioned by his sister-in-law’ remark.
-
-“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton; “is there any more?”
-
-“Only this--it’s positively the last--’and, finally, we then that are
-strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please
-ourselves.’s Again I would remark, that I believe you’re orthodox?”
-
-The Burtons looked very sober for a moment, when suddenly there came
-through the air the cry--
-
-“Pa-_pa_!”
-
-Tom sprang to his feet; Helen looked anxious, and the Burtons smiled
-quietly at each other. The cry was repeated, and louder, and as Tom
-opened the door a little figure in white appeared.
-
-[Illustration: MAKING THEM WHAT I WOULD LIKE THEM TO BE]
-
-“I can’t get to sleep,” said Budge, shielding his eyes a moment from
-the light. “I ain’t seen you for so long that I’e got to sit in your
-lap till some sleep will come to me.”
-
-“Come to auntie, Budge,” said Mrs. Burton. “Poor papa is real tired;
-you can’t imagine the terrible work he’s been at for an hour.”
-
-“Papa says it rests him to rest me,” said Budge, clasping his father
-tightly.
-
-The Burtons looked on with quiet amusement, until there arose another
-cry in the hall of--
-
-“Papa! Ow! pa-pa!”
-
-Again Tom hurried to the door, this time with Budge clinging around
-his neck. As the door opened, Toddie crept in on his hands and knees,
-exclaiming:
-
-“De old bed wazh all empty, only ’cept me, an’ I kwawled down de
-stepsh ’cauzh I didn’t want to be loneshome no more. And Ize all empty
-too, and I wantsh somefin’ to eat.”
-
-Helen went to the dining-room closet and brought in a piece of light
-cake.
-
-“There goes all my good instructions,” groaned Mrs. Burton. “To think
-of the industry with which I have always labored to teach those
-children that it’s injurious to eat between meals, and, worse yet, to
-eat cake!”
-
-“And to think of how you always ended by letting the children have
-their own way!” added Mr. Burton.
-
-“Eating between meals is the least of two evils,” said Tom. “When
-a small boy is kept in bed with a sprained ankle, and on a short
-allowance of food---- Oh, dear! I see my subject nosing around again,
-Alice. Do you know that most of the wickednesses of children come from
-the lack of proper attention to their physical condition?”
-
-“Save me! Pity me!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton. “I’m convinced already that
-I don’t know a single thing about children, and I’ll know still less if
-I take another lesson to-day.”
-
-“Izh you takin’ lessons, Aunt Alish?” asked Toddie, who had caught a
-fragment of the conversation. “What book is you lynin’ fwom?”
-
-“A primer,” replied Mrs. Burton; “the very smallest, most insignificant
-of A B C books.”
-
-“Why, can’t you read?” asked Budge.
-
-“Oh, yes,” sighed Mrs. Burton. “’But whether there be knowledge it
-shall vanish away.’”
-
-“’But love never faileth,’” responded Mr. Lawrence.
-
-“If you want to learn anythin’,” said Budge, “just you ask my papa.
-He’ll make you know all about it, no matter how awful stupid you are.”
-
-“Many thanks for the advice--and the insinuations,” said Mrs. Burton.
-“I feel as if the latter were specially pertinent, from the daze my
-head is in. I never knew before how necessary it was to be nobody in
-order to be somebody.”
-
-The boys took possession of their father, one on each knee, and Tom
-rocked with them and chatted in a low tone to them, and hummed a tune,
-and finally broke into a song, and as it happened to be one of the
-variety known as “roaring,” his brother-in-law joined him, and the air
-recalled old friends and old associations, and both voices grew louder,
-and the ladies caught the air and increased its volume with their own
-voices, when suddenly a very shrill thin voice was heard above their
-heads, and Mrs. Lawrence exclaimed:
-
-“Sh--h--h! The baby is awake.”
-
-Subsequent sounds indicated beyond doubt that Mrs. Lawrence was correct
-in her supposition, and she started instinctively for the upper floor,
-but found herself arrested by her husband’s arm and anxious face, while
-Mrs. Burton exclaimed,
-
-“Oh, bring it down here! Please, do!”
-
-The nurse was summoned, and soon appeared with a wee bundle of
-flannel, linen, pink face and fingers.
-
-“Give her to me!” exclaimed Mrs. Burton, rising to take the baby, but
-the baby exclaimed “Ah!” and its mother snatched it. Then the baby did
-its best to hide in its mother’s bosom, and its mother did her best
-to help it, and by the merest chance a rosy little foot escaped from
-its covering, seeing which Mrs. Burton hurriedly moved her chair and
-covered the foot with both her hands; though it would have been equally
-convenient and far less laborious to have tucked the foot back among
-its habitual wrappings. Then the boys had to be moved nearer the baby,
-so that they could touch it, and try to persuade it to coo; and Harry
-Burton found himself sitting so far from any one else that he drew
-his chair closer to the group, just to be sociable; and the Lawrences
-grew gradually to look very happy, while the Burtons grew more and
-more solemn, and at last the hands of Mr. and Mrs. Burton met under
-the superabundant wraps of the baby, and then their eyes met, and the
-lady’s eyes were full of tears and her husband’s full of tenderness,
-and Budge, who had taken in the whole scene, broke the silence by
-remarking;
-
-“Why, Aunt Alice, what are you crying for?”
-
-Then every one looked up and looked awkward, until Mrs. Lawrence leaned
-over the baby and kissed her sister-in-law, noticing which the two men
-rose abruptly, although Tom Lawrence found occasion to indulge in the
-ceremony of taking Harry Burton by the hand. Then the baby yielded
-to her aunt’ solicitations, and changed her resting-place for a few
-moments, and the gentlemen were informed that if they wanted to smoke
-they would have to do it in the dining-room, for Mrs. Lawrence was not
-yet able to bear it. Then the gentlemen adjourned and stared at each
-other as awkwardly over their cigars as if they had never met before,
-and the ladies chatted as confidentially as if they were twin sisters
-that had never been separated, and the boys were carried back to bed,
-one by each gentleman, and they were re-kissed good night, and their
-father and uncle were departing when Toddie remarked,
-
-“Papa, mamma hazhn’t gived our sister-baby to Aunt Alish to keep, hazh
-she?”
-
-“No, old chap,” said Tom.
-
-“I don’t want anybody to have that sister-baby but us,” said Budge;
-“but if anybody had to, Aunt Alice would be the person. Do you know, I
-believe she was prayin’ to it, she looked so funny.”
-
-[Illustration: A LITTLE VISITOR AT THE BURTONS’]
-
-The gentlemen winked at each other, and again Tom Lawrence took the
-hand of his brother-in-law. Several months later, the apprehensions
-of the boys were quieted by the appearance of a little visitor at the
-Burtons’, who acted as if she had come to stay, and who in the course
-of years cured Mrs. Burton of every assumption of the ability of
-relatives to manage “Other People’s Children.”
-
-
-THE END.
-
-
-
-
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-postpaid.
-
-
- BEVERLY OF GRAUSTARK. By George Barr McCutcheon. With Color
- Frontispiece and other illustrations by Harrison Fisher. Beautiful
- inlay picture in colors of Beverly on the cover.
-
-“The most fascinating, engrossing and picturesque of the season’
-novels.”--_Boston Herald._ “’Beverly’s is altogether charming--almost
-living flesh and blood.”--_Louisville Times._ “Better than
-‘Graustark’.”--_Mail and Express._ “A sequel quite as impossible as
-‘Graustark’s and quite as entertaining.”--_Bookman._ “A charming love
-story well told.”--_Boston Transcript_.
-
- HALF A ROGUE. By Harold MacGrath. With illustrations and inlay cover
- picture by Harrison Fisher.
-
-“Here are dexterity of plot, glancing play at witty talk, characters
-really human and humanly real, spirit and gladness, freshness and quick
-movement. ‘Half a Rogue’s is as brisk as a horseback ride on a glorious
-morning. It is as varied as an April day. It is as charming as two most
-charming girls can make it. Love and honor and success and all the
-great things worth fighting for and living for the involved in ‘Half a
-Rogue.’”--_Phila. Press._
-
- THE GIRL FROM TIM’S PLACE. By Charles Clark Munn. With illustrations
- by Frank T. Merrill.
-
-“Figuring in the pages of this story there are several strong
-characters. Typical New England folk and an especially sturdy one, old
-Cy Walker, through whose instrumentality Chip comes to happiness and
-fortune. There is a chain of comedy, tragedy, pathos and love, which
-makes a dramatic story.”--_Boston Herald._
-
- THE LION AND THE MOUSE. A story of American Life. By Charles Klein,
- and Arthur Hornblow. With illustrations by Stuart Travis, and Scenes
- from the Play.
-
-The novel duplicated the success of the play; in fact the book is
-greater than the play. A portentous clash of dominant personalities
-that form the essence of the play are necessarily touched upon but
-briefly in the short space of four acts. All this is narrated in the
-novel with a wealth of fascinating and absorbing detail, making it one
-of the most powerfully written and exciting works of fiction given to
-the world in years.
-
- BARBARA WINSLOW, REBEL. By Elizabeth Ellis. With illustrations by John
- Rae, and colored inlay cover.
-
-The following, taken from story, will best describe the heroine: A
-TOAST: “To the bravest comrade in misfortune, the sweetest companion
-in peace and at all times the most courageous of women.”--_Barbara
-Winslow._ “A romantic story, buoyant, eventful, and in matters of love
-exactly what the heart could desire.”--_New York Sun._
-
- SUSAN. By Ernest Oldmeadow. With a color frontispiece by Frank
- Haviland. Medalion in color on front cover.
-
-Lord Ruddington falls helplessly in love with Miss Langley, whom he
-sees in one of her walks accompanied by her maid, Susan. Through a
-misapprehension of personalities his lordship addresses a love missive
-to the maid. Susan accepts in perfect good faith, and an epistolary
-love-making goes on till they are disillusioned. It naturally makes a
-droll and delightful little comedy; and is a story that is particularly
-clever in the telling.
-
- WHEN PATTY WENT TO COLLEGE. By Jean Webster. With illustrations by C.
- D. Williams.
-
-“The book is a treasure.”--_Chicago Daily News._ “Bright, whimsical,
-and thoroughly entertaining.”--_Buffalo Express._ “One of the best
-stories of life in a girl’s college that has ever been written.”--_N.
-Y. Press._ “To any woman who has enjoyed the pleasures of a college
-life this book cannot fail to bring back many sweet recollections; and
-to those who have not been to college the wit, lightness, and charm of
-Patty are sure to be no less delightful.”--_Public Opinion._
-
- THE MASQUERADER. By Katherine Cecil Thurston. With illustrations by
- Clarence F. Underwood.
-
-“You can’t drop it till you have turned the last page.”--_Cleveland
-Leader._ “Its very audacity of motive, of execution, of solution,
-almost takes one’s breath away. The boldness of its denouement is
-sublime.”--_Boston Transcript._ “The literary hit of a generation.
-The best of it is the story deserves all its success. A masterly
-story.”--_St. Louis Dispatch._ “The story is ingeniously told, and
-cleverly constructed.”--_The Dial._
-
- THE GAMBLER. By Katherine Cecil Thurston. With illustrations by John
- Campbell.
-
-“Tells of a high strung young Irish woman who has a passion for
-gambling, inherited from a long line of sporting ancestors. She has a
-high sense of honor, too, and that causes complications. She is a very
-human, lovable character, and love saves her.”--_N. Y. Times._
-
- THE AFFAIR AT THE INN. By Kate Douglas Wiggin. With illustrations by
- Martin Justice.
-
-“As superlatively clever in the writing as it is entertaining in
-the reading. It is actual comedy of the most artistic sort, and it
-is handled with a freshness and originality that is unquestionably
-novel.”--_Boston Transcript._ “A feast of humor and good cheer, yet
-subtly pervaded by special shades of feeling, fancy, tenderness, or
-whimsicality. A merry thing in prose.”--_St. Louis Democrat._
-
- ROSE O’ THE RIVER. By Kate Douglas Wiggin. With illustrations by
- George Wright.
-
-“‘Rose o’ the River,’s a charming bit of sentiment, gracefully written
-and deftly touched with a gentle humor. It is a dainty book--daintily
-illustrated.”--_New York Tribune._ “A wholesome, bright, refreshing
-story, an ideal book to give a young girl.”--_Chicago Record-Herald._
-“An idyllic story, replete with pathos and inimitable humor. As
-story-telling it is perfection, and as portrait-painting it is true to
-the life.”--_London Mail._
-
- TILLIE: A Mennonite Maid. By Helen R. Martin. With illustrations by
- Florence Scovel Shinn.
-
-The little “Mennonite Maid” who wanders through these pages is
-something quite new in fiction. Tillie is hungry for books and beauty
-and love; and she comes into her inheritance at the end. “Tillie is
-faulty, sensitive, big-hearted, eminently human, and first, last and
-always lovable. Her charm glows warmly, the story is well handled, the
-characters skilfully developed.”--_The Book Buyer._
-
- LADY ROSE’S DAUGHTER. By Mrs. Humphry Ward. With illustrations by
- Howard Chandler Christy.
-
-“The most marvellous work of its wonderful author.”--_New York World._
-“We touch regions and attain altitudes which it is not given to the
-ordinary novelist even to approach.”--_London Times._ “In no other
-story has Mrs. Ward approached the brilliancy and vivacity of Lady
-Rose’s Daughter.”--_North American Review._
-
- THE BANKER AND THE BEAR. By Henry K. Webster.
-
-“An exciting and absorbing story.”--_New York Times._ “Intensely
-thrilling in parts, but an unusually good story all through. There is a
-love affair of real charm and most novel surroundings, there is a run
-on the bank which is almost worth a year’s growth, and there is all
-manner of exhilarating men and deeds which should bring the book into
-high and permanent favor.”--_Chicago Evening Post._
-
-
-NATURE BOOKS
-
-With Colored Plates, and Photographs from Life.
-
-
-BIRD NEIGHBORS. An Introductory Acquaintance with 150 Birds Commonly
-Found in the Woods, Fields and Gardens About Our Homes. By Neltje
-Blanchan. With an Introduction by John Burroughs, and many plates of
-birds in natural colors. Large Quarto, size 7¾ × 10⅜, Cloth. Formerly
-published at $2.00. Our special price, $1.00.
-
- As an aid to the elementary study of bird life nothing has ever been
- published more satisfactory than this most successful of Nature Books.
- This book makes the identification of our birds simple and positive,
- even to the uninitiated, through certain unique features. I. All the
- birds are grouped according to color, in the belief that a bird’s
- coloring is the first and often the only characteristic noticed. II.
- By another classification, the birds are grouped according to their
- season. III. All the popular names by which a bird is known are
- given both in the descriptions and the index. The colored plates are
- the most beautiful and accurate ever given in a moderate-priced and
- popular book. The most successful and widely sold Nature Book yet
- published.
-
-BIRDS THAT HUNT AND ARE HUNTED. Life Histories of 170 Birds of Prey,
-Game Birds and Water-Fowls. By Neltje Blanchan. With Introduction by
-G. O. Shields (Coquina). 24 photographic illustrations in color. Large
-Quarto, size 7¾ × 10⅜. Formerly published at $2.00. Our special
-price, $1.00.
-
- No work of its class has ever been issued that contains so much
- valuable information, presented with such felicity and charm. The
- colored plates are true to nature. By their aid alone any bird
- illustrated may be readily identified. Sportsmen will especially
- relish the twenty-four color plates which show the more important
- birds in characteristic poses. They are probably the most valuable and
- artistic pictures of the kind available to-day.
-
-NATURE’S GARDEN. An Aid to Knowledge of Our Wild Flowers and Their
-Insect Visitors. 24 colored plates, and many other illustrations
-photographed directly from nature. Text by Neltje Blanchan, Large
-Quarto, size 7-3/4 × 10-3/8. Cloth. Formerly published at $3.00 net.
-Our special price, $1.25.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Superb color portraits of many familiar flowers in their living tints,
-and no less beautiful pictures in black and white of others--each
-blossom photographed directly from nature--form an unrivaled series. By
-their aid alone the novice can name the flowers met afield.
-
-Intimate life-histories of over five hundred species of wild flowers,
-written in untechnical, vivid language, emphasize the marvelously
-interesting and vital relationship existing between these flowers and
-the special insect to which each is adapted.
-
-The flowers are divided into five color groups, because by this
-arrangement any one with no knowledge of botany whatever can readily
-identify the specimens met during a walk. The various popular names
-by which each species is known, its preferred dwelling-place, months
-of blooming and geographical distribution follow its description.
-Lists of berry-bearing and other plants most conspicuous after the
-flowering season, of such as grow together in different kinds of soil,
-and finally of family groups arranged by that method of scientific
-classification adopted by the International Botanical Congress which
-has now superseded all others, combine to make “Nature’s Garden” an
-indispensable guide.
-
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-FAMOUS COPYRIGHT BOOKS IN POPULAR PRICED EDITIONS
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-Re-issues of the great literary successes of the time. Library size.
-Printed on excellent paper--most of them with illustrations of marked
-beauty--and handsomely bound in cloth. Price, 75 cents a volume,
-postpaid.
-
-
- THE SPIRIT OF THE SERVICE. By Edith Elmer Wood. With illustrations by
- Rufus Zogbaum.
-
-The standards and life of “the new navy” are breezily set forth with a
-genuine ring impossible from the most gifted “outsider.” “The story of
-the destruction of the ‘Maine,’s and of the Battle of Manila, are very
-dramatic. The author is the daughter of one naval officer and the wife
-of another. Naval folks will find much to interest them in ‘The Spirit
-of the Service.’”--_The Book Buyer._
-
- A SPECTRE OF POWER. By Charles Egbert Craddock.
-
-Miss Murfree has pictured Tennessee mountains and the mountain people
-in striking colors and with dramatic vividness, but goes back to the
-time of the struggles of the French and English in the early eighteenth
-century for possession of the Cherokee territory. The story abounds in
-adventure, mystery, peril and suspense.
-
- THE STORM CENTRE. By Charles Egbert Craddock.
-
-A war story; but more of flirtation, love and courtship than of
-fighting or history. The tale is thoroughly readable and takes its
-readers again into golden Tennessee, into the atmosphere which has
-distinguished all of Miss Murfree’s novels.
-
- THE ADVENTURESS. By Coralie Stanton. With color frontispiece by
- Harrison Fisher, and attractive inlay cover in colors.
-
-As a penalty for her crimes, her evil nature, her flint-like
-callousness, her more than inhuman cruelty, her contempt for the laws
-of God and man, she was condemned to bury her magnificent personality,
-her transcendent beauty, her superhuman charms, in gilded obscurity at
-a King’s left hand. A powerful story powerfully told.
-
- THE GOLDEN GREYHOUND. A Novel by Dwight Tilton. With illustrations by
- E. Pollak.
-
-A thoroughly good story that keeps you guessing to the very end, and
-never attempts to instruct or reform you. It is a strictly up-to-date
-story of love and mystery with wireless telegraphy and all the modern
-improvements. The events nearly all take place on a big Atlantic liner
-and the romance of the deep is skilfully made to serve as a setting for
-the romance, old as mankind, yet always new, involving our hero.
-
-
- GROSSET & DUNLAP, NEW YORK
-
- * * * * *
-
-Transcriber’s Notes
-
-Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Hyphenation
-have been standardised except where it appears to have been used for
-emphasis, but all other spelling and punctuation remains unchanged.
-
-A table of contents has been added.
-
-Italics are represented thus _italic_ and bold thus =bold=. In the
-following paragraph in Chapter III the Said has been added.
-
-“Oh, no, I won’t. I only said ’twas something to eat. But say, Aunt
-Alice, how do bananas grow?” [said] Toddie, with brightening eyes and
-a confident shake of his curly head.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Budge & Toddie, by John Habberton
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