LADY BIRD.

  "NOW, Pocahontas Maria, sit still and don't disturb the little ones.Imogene, that lesson must be learned before I come back, you know. Now,dear, that was very, very naughty. When Mamma tells you to do things youmustn't pout and poke Stella with your foot in that way. It isn't niceat all. Stella is younger than you, and you ought to set her samples, asNursey says. Look at Ning Po Ganges, how good she is, and how she mindsall I say, and yet she's the littlest child I've got."

  If anybody had been walking in Madam Bird's old-fashioned garden thatmorning, and had heard these wise words coming from the other side ofthe rose thicket, he would certainly have supposed that some old damewith a school was hidden away there, or at the least an anxious Mammawith a family of unruly children. But if this somebody had gone into thethicket, bobbing his head to avoid the prickly, wreath-like branches, hewould have found on the other side only one person, little Lota Bird,playing all alone with her dolls. "Lady Bird" Nursey called Lota,because when, six years before, Papa fetched her home from China, shewore a speckled frock of orange-red and black, very much the color ofthose other tiny frocks in which the real lady-birds fly about insummer-time. The speckled frock was outgrown long ago, but the namestill clung to Lota, and every one called her by it except Grandmamma,who said "Charlotte," sighing as she spoke, and Papa, whose lettersalways began, "My darling little Lota." Papa had been away so long nowthat Lota would quite have forgotten him had it not been for theseletters which came regularly every month. The paper on which they werewritten had an odd, pleasant smell. Nurse said it was the smell ofsandal-wood. Sometimes there were things inside for Lota, bird'sfeathers of gay colors, Chinese puzzles of carved ivory, or smallpictures painted on rice paper. Lota liked these things very much. Itwas like playing at a Papa rather than really having one, but sheenjoyed the play; and when they told her that Papa was soon coming hometo stay always, she was only half glad, and said: "Won't there be anymore letters then? I shan't like that." Poor little girlie: we, who knowhow nice it is to have real Papas, can feel sorry for her; can't we?

  But Lota did not pity herself in the least. Grandmamma's house was stiffand gloomy, shaded by high trees and thick vines which jealously shutout the sun whenever he tried to shine in at the window panes.Grandmamma's servants were old too, like the house. Most of them hadgray hair. Nursey wore spectacles; the coachman indulged in rheumatism.Grandmamma herself was old and feeble. She rarely laughed or seemed toenjoy any thing, but sat in an easy chair all the year round, and readsolemn books bound in black leather, which made her cry. Jennings hermaid waited on her, fetched footstools and cushions, pushed the blindsdown as soon as the cheerful noon got round to that side of the house."Missus is uncommon poorly to-day," she announced every morning. "Miss,you must be very quiet." Lota was quiet. She was the only young thingin the sad old house, but the shadows of age and sorrow fell lightlyupon her, and in spite of them she was as happy a child as you will findin a summer's day. The garden was her kingdom and her Paradise. It was awide, fragrant, shaded place, full of the shrubs and flowers of formerdays. Huge pink and white oleanders, planted in tubs, stood on eitherside the walks. Thick spikes of purple lavender edged the beds; thesummer-house was a tangle of honey-suckle, rosemary, and eglantine.Roses of all colors abounded. They towered high above Lota's head as shewalked,--twined and clasped, shut her in with perfumed shadows, rainedshowers of many-colored petals on the grass. An old-fashioned fairywould have delighted to dwell in that garden, and perhaps one did dwellthere, else why should little lonely Lota have been always so very, veryhappy left alone among the trees and flowers? Can any one tell me that?

  Far up in the curved angle made by the rose-hedge was the little housewhere she and her dollies lived. Jacob the gardener built this house, ofroots and willow-osiers curiously twisted. It was just big enough forLady Bird and her family. The walls were pasted over with gay prints cutfrom the "Illustrated News" and other papers. There was a real window.The moss floor had a blue cotton rug laid over it. A small table andchair for Lota and one apiece for the dolls made up the furniture,beside a shelf on which the baby-house tea-set was displayed. The roofkept out the weather pretty well, except when it rained hard; thenthings got wet. Here Lota sat all the morning, after she had finishedher lessons with Nursey,--short lessons always, and easy ones, by Papa'sparticular request, for the doctors had said that Lota must not studymuch till she was really big and strong. Pocahontas Maria and the otherchildren had to work much harder than their Mamma, I assure you. Lotawas very strict with them. When they were idle she put them into thecorner, and made them sit with their faces to the wall by way ofpunishment. Once Lota had the measles, and for two whole weeks was keptaway entirely from the garden-house. When she came back, she found thatduring all this time poor little Ning-Po Ganges had been sitting in thisignominious position with her face hidden. Lota cried with remorse atthis, and promised Ning-Po that never, so long as she lived, should shebe put into the corner again; so after that, for convenience' sake,Ning-Po was always called the best child in the family. Now and then,when Lota felt hospitable, she would give a tea-party, and ask LadyGreen and her children from under the snow-ball bush next door. Nobodybut Lota and the dolls could see the Greens, even when they sat aboutthe table talking and being talked to, but that was no matter; and whenNursey said, "Law, Miss Lady Bird, how can you; there's never any suchpeople, you know," Lota would point triumphantly to a card tacked on tothe snow-ball bush, which had "Lady Green" printed on it, and would say,"Naughty Nursey! can't you read? There's her door-plate!"

  As this story is all about Lota, I think I would better tell you justhow she spent one week of her life, she and the dolls.

  The week began with Sunday, which was always a dull day, because Lotawas forbidden to go into the garden.

  In the morning she went to church with Grandmamma, drawn thither by twofat old black horses, who seemed to think it almost too much trouble toswitch the flies off with their tails. Church was warm and the sermonwas drowsy, so poor Lady Bird fell asleep, and tumbled over suddenly onto Grandmamma's lap. This distressed the old lady a good deal, for shewas very particular about behavior in church. By way of punishment, Lotahad to learn four verses of a hymn after dinner. It was the hymn whichbegins,--

  "Awake, my soul, and with the sun Thy daily course of duty run,"

  and learning it took all the time from dinner till four o'clock.

  The hymn learned and repeated, Lota read for awhile in one of her Sundaybooks. She was ashamed of her sleepiness in the morning, and had everyintention of being very good till bedtime; but unluckily she lookedacross to where the dolls were sitting, and, as she explained to Nurseyafterward, Pocahontas Maria was whispering to Imogene, and both of themwere laughing so hard and looking so mischievous that she _had_ to seewhat was the matter. Result;--at five, Jennings, coming to call Lota,found her with all the dolls in a row before her teaching them hymns.And, though this seems most proper, Jennings, who was a strictMethodist, did not think so; so Lota had another lecture fromGrandmamma, and went to bed under a sense of disgrace. So much forSunday.

  Monday opened with bright sunshine. It had rained all night; but byeleven o'clock the dear old garden was quite dry, and how sweet it didlook! The pink roses twinkled and winked their whisker-like calyxes asshe went by; the white ones shook their serene leaves, and sent outdelicious smells. Every green thing looked greener than it had donebefore the rain. The blue sky, swept clear of clouds, seemed to havebeen rubbed and made brilliant. It was a day for gardens; and Lady Birdand her family celebrated it by a picnic, to which they invited all theGreens.

  "Lady Green hasn't treated me quite properly," remarked Lota to heroldest child, Pocahontas. "She didn't leave her card at this house Idon't know when. But we won't mind about that, because it's such a niceday, and we want the picnic. And we can't have the picnic without theGreens, you know, dear, because there aren't any other people toinvite."

  So they had the picnic,--a delightfu
l one. The young Greens behavedbadly. They almost always did behave badly when they came to see LadyBird; but it was rather a good thing, because she could warn her ownchildren that, if they did the same, they would be severely punished."Lady Green is too indulgent," she would say. "I want _my_ children tobe much gooder than hers. Mind that, Imogene." So, on this occasion,when Clarissa Green snatched at the rose-cakes which formed the stapleof the feast, Lota looked very sharply at Stella, and said, "Don't letme ever see you do so, Stella, or I shall have to slap your littlehands." Stella heeded the warning, and sat upright as a poker andperfectly still.

  Clarissa was perhaps not so much to blame, for the rose-cakes weredelicious. Would you like Lady Bird's recipe? Any little girl can makethem. Take a good many rose-leaves; put some sugar with them,--as muchsugar as you can get; tie them up in paper, or in a good thickgrape-leaf; lay them on a bench, and _sit down on them hard severaltimes_: then they are done. Some epicures pretend that they must beburied in the ground, and left there for a week; but this takes time,and reasonable children will find them quite good enough without. Theseparticular rose-cakes were the best Lota had ever made. The whole party,Greens and all, agreed to that. For the rest of the feast there was amotto-paper, which had ornamented several picnics before. It could notbe eaten, but it looked well sitting in the middle of the table. At theclose of the banquet all the party sang a song. Lady Green's voice wasnot very good, but Lota explained to the children afterward that itisn't polite to laugh at company even when they do make funny squeakswith their high notes. Pocahontas had to sit in the corner awhile forhaving done so. She was sorry, and promised never to offend again; as areward for which, her Mamma gave her a small blank book made ofwriting-paper and a pin, which she told her was for her very own.

  "You are such a big girl now," said Mamma Lota, "that it is time youbegan to keep a Diary like I do. I shall read it over every day, and seehow you spell."

  Here is Pocahontas Maria's journal as it stood on Tuesday afternoon,after the children had done their lessons and had their dinners:--

  "Tuseday. I am going to keep a Diry like Mamma's. Studded as usel. Mammasaid I was cairless, and didn't get my jography lesson propperly. Stellahad hers better than me. I hurt my ellbow against the table. It won'tbend any more. Mamma is going to get Doctor Jacob to put in a wouldenpin. I hope it won't hurt."

  "Oh, Pocahontas! Pocahontas!" cried the scandalized Lady Bird as sheread this effusion. "After all the pains I have taken, to think youshould spell so horridly as this." Then she sat down and corrected allthe words. "I don't wonder your cheeks are so red," she said severely.Pocahontas sat up straight and blushed, but made no excuses. It is notstrange that Lota, who really spelt very nicely for a little girl ofher age, should have been shocked.

  On Tuesday night it rained again, and the sun got up in a cloud nextmorning, and seemed uncertain whether or not to shine. Grandmamma wasgoing to drive out to make a call, and Jennings came early to thenursery to tell Nurse to dress Lady Bird nicely, so that she might gotoo. Accordingly Nursey put on Lota's freshest white cambric and herbest blue sash, and laid a pair of white gloves and a little hat trimmedwith blue ribbons and forget-me-nots on the bed, so that they might beready when the carriage came to the door. "Now, Miss Lady Bird, you mustsit still and keep yourself very nice," she said. This was hard, for thechildren had all been left in the garden-house the night before, andLota wanted very much to see them. She stood at the window lookingwistfully out. By and by the sun flashed gloriously from the clouds, andsent a bright ray right into her eyes. It touched the rain-drops whichhung over the bushes, and instantly each became a tiny mimic sun,sending out separate rays of its own. Lota forgot all about Nursey'sinjunctions. "I'll just run out one minute and fetch little Ning-Po in,"she thought. "That child's too delicate to be left out in the damp. Shecatches cold so easily; really it quite troubles me sometimes the wayshe coughs."

  So down the garden walk she sped. The shrubs, shaken by her swiftpassage, scattered showers of bright drops upon the white frock and thepretty sash. But Lota didn't mind or notice. The air and sun, the clear,fresh feeling, the birds' songs, filled her with a kind of intoxication.Her head spun, her feet danced as she ran along. Suddenly a cold feelingat the toes of her bronze boots startled her. She looked down. Behold,she was in a pool of water, left by the rain in a hollow of thegravel-walk. Was she frightened? Not at all. The water felt delightfullyfresh, her spirits flashed out like the sun himself, and in the joy ofher heart she began to waltz, scattering and splashing the water abouther. The crisp ruffles of the cambric lost all their starch, the prettyboots were quite spoiled, but Lota waltzed on, and in this plightNursey, flying indignantly out from the kitchen door, found her naughtypet.

  "Well, Miss Charlotte, I _am_ discouraged," she said, as she pulled offthe wet things. "Waltzing in a mud-puddle! That's nice work for a younglady! I am discouraged, Miss Charlotte."

  Nursey never said "Miss Charlotte" except on the most solemn occasions,so Lota knew that she was very vexed. She should have been cast down bythis, but somehow she was not.

  "But _I'm_ not discouraged," she replied. "I'm not discouraged a bit!And the birds aren't discouraged! They sang all the while I was waltzingin the mud-puddle, Nursey; I heard 'em!"

  Nursey gave it up. She loved Lady Bird dearly, and could not hear toscold her or to have any one else do so. So she made haste to changethe unlucky frock and shoes, so that she should be neat and trimwhenever Grandmamma sent for her. I suppose this forbearance touchedLota's heart, for at the last moment she turned, ran back, threw herarms round Nursey's neck, and whispered, "I'm sorry, and I'll neverwaltz in mud-puddles again." Nursey squeezed her hard by way of answer."Precious lamb!" she said, and Lota ran downstairs quite happy.

  The lady whom Grandmamma drove out to see, had a little granddaughtervisiting her. Isabel Bernard was her name. She came from the city, andwas so beautifully dressed and so well-mannered, that Grandmamma tookquite a fancy to her, and invited her to spend a day with Lota.

  "Charlotte will enjoy a young companion," said Grandmamma. So the nextday was fixed upon.

  This was a very exciting event for the Bird family, who rarely had anyvisitors except Lady Green, who did not count, being such a nearneighbor. Pocahontas wrote in her journal, "A grand lady is coming tosee Mamma. Me and all of us are going to have on our best frocks. I hopeshe'll think us pretty;" and though Lota told her that little girlsought not to mind about being pretty if only they obey their mammas andare good, the sentiment was so natural that she really hadn't the heartto scold the child much. The baby-house was swept and garnished for theoccasion, a fresh batch of rose-cakes was made, and a general air offestivity pervaded the premises.

  Lota hoped that Isabel would come early, soon after breakfast, so as tohave a longer day; but it was quite twelve o'clock before she made herappearance, all alone by herself in a huge barouche, which made her seemscarcely larger than a doll. She wore a fine frilled muslin frock overblue silk, a white hat, and dainty lemon-colored boots. When Lota,feeling shy at the spectacle of this magnificence, proposed going intothe garden, she hung back.

  "Are you quite sure that it isn't damp?" she said, "because--yousee--this is my best frock."

  "Oh, quite sure," pleaded Lota. "The grass was cut only day beforeyesterday, and Jacob rolled the gravel last night. Do come! The childrenwant to see you so much."

  "The children!" said Isabel, surprised. But when she saw the doll-familysitting in a row with their best clothes on, and their four pairs offixed blue eyes looking straight before them, she laughed scornfully.

  "Do you play with dolls?" she asked. "I gave them up long ago."

  Lady Bird's eyes grew large with distress. "Oh, don't call them _that_,"she cried. "I never do. It hurts their feelings so. You can't think."

  Isabel laughed again. She wasn't at all a nice girl to play with. Therose-cakes she pronounced "nasty." When Lota explained about Lady Green,she stared and said it was ridiculous, and that there was no suchper
son. She turned up her nose at Pocahontas's journal, and declaredthat Lota wrote it herself! "Did you ever hear of such a thing?" askedLady Bird afterward of Lady Green. "As if my child could not write!" Itwas just so all day. The only thing Isabel seemed to enjoy was dining instate with Grandmamma, and answering all her questions with the air of alittle grown-up woman. Grandmamma said she was a very well-behavedchild, and she wished Charlotte would take pattern by her. But Lotadidn't agree with Grandmamma. She hoped with all her heart that Isabelwould never come to visit her again.

  Pocahontas Maria wrote in her journal next day:--

  "The lady who came to see Mamma wasn't very nice, I think. She didn'teven speak to us children, and she made fun at my diry. We didn't likeher a bit. Stella says she's horrid, and Ning-Po hopes Mamma won't everask her any more." Lady Bird reproved Pocahontas very gravely for thesesentiments, and reminded her again that "diry" is not the way to spelldiary; but she said to Lady Green, who dropped in for a call, "Poorlittle thing, I don't wonder! children always find out when people isn'tnice; and Isabel, she _was_ very disagreeable, you know, calling them'dolls' and things like that! It's not surprising that they didn't likeher, I'm sure."

  Saturday was an eventful day. There were no lessons to do for one thing,because Nursey's daughter had come to see her, and Grandmamma said LadyBird might be excused for once. This gave her the whole morning toattend to domestic matters, which was nice, or would have been, onlyunluckily little Stella took this opportunity to break out with measles.Of course Lady Bird was much distressed. She put Stella to bed at once,and sent the others to the farthest side of the room lest they shouldcatch the disease also, "though," as she told Pocahontas, "You'll besure to have it. It always runs straight through families; the doctorsaid so when I had it; and whatever I shall do with all of you on myhands at once, I can't imagine." There is always a great deal to do intimes of sickness, so this was a very busy day. Lota had to make brothfor Stella, to concoct medicine out of water and syringa-stems, toprepare dinner for the other children, and hear all their lessons, forof course education must not be neglected let who will have measles!Pocahontas was unusually troublesome. Imogene cried over the spellinglesson; and altogether Lady Bird had her hands full that morning.

  "I shall certainly send you all away to boarding-school if you don'tlearn to behave better," she cried in despair, at which awful threat thechildren wept aloud and promised to be good. Then came dinner,--realdinner, I mean,--which Lady Bird could scarcely eat, so anxious was sheabout her sick child in the garden. The moment it was over back sheflew, oblivious of the charms of raisins and almonds. Stella was asleep,but she evidently had fever, for her cheeks were bright pink, and herlips as red as sealing-wax.

  "I must have a doctor for her," cried poor Lady Bird.

  She tried to think what article would be best to choose for the doctor,and fixed on an old black muff of Nursey's which lived on the shelf ofthe nursery closet. To get it, however, it was needful to leave thechildren again.

  "You must all be good," she said, fussing about and tidying the room,"very good and very quiet, so as not to wake up Stella. Dear me, what aqueer smell there is here! Let me think. What did Nursey do when I hadmeasles? She burned some sort of paper and made it smell nice again. Imust burn some paper too, else Stella'll suffocate, won't you, dear?"

  No sooner thought than done. Jacob had left his coat hanging near thetool-house while he went to dinner, and he always carried matches in hispipe-pocket. Lady Bird knew that. She put her hand in and drew one out,feeling guilty, for one of Nursey's chief maxims was, "Never touchmatches, Lady Bird; remember what I say, never!"

  "If Nursey knew about Stella's having the measles she'd say different,"she soliloquized.

  There was a good-sized bit of brown paper in the garden-house. Lotarolled it up, laid it near the bedside, lit the edge, and carefully blewout the match. The paper did not flame, but smouldered slowly, sendingup a curl of smoke. Lady Bird gazed at it with much satisfaction, then,with a last kiss to Stella, she went away to fetch the doctor, stoppingat Lady Green's door as she passed, to tell her that she had better notlet any of her children come over, because they might catch the measlesand be sick too.

  It took some time to rummage out the muff, for Nursey had tucked it farback on the shelf behind other things. There was nobody in the nursery.Something unusual seemed to be going on downstairs, for doors wereopening and shutting, and persons were talking and exclaiming. Lotapaid no attention to this; her head was full of her own affairs, and shehad no time to spend on other people's. Muff in hand, she hastened downthe garden walk. As she drew near she smelt smoke, and smiled withsatisfaction. But the smell grew stronger, and the air was blue andthick. She became alarmed, and began to run. Another moment, and thehouse was in sight. Smoke was pouring from the door, from the window,and--what was that red thing which darted out from the smoke like a longtongue? Oh, Lady Bird! Lady Bird! fly, hasten, your house is on fire,and there are the children inside with none but you to aid them!

  Did ever mother hesitate when her little ones were in danger? Lady Birddid not. With a shriek of affright she plunged boldly into the midst ofthe smoke. An awful sight met her eyes through the open door. Thewall-paper was on fire, the cotton rug, the table-cover! Little redflames were creeping up the valance of the crib in which poor sickStella lay! The other children were sitting in a row opposite, verycalm and still, but blisters had begun to form on Imogene's waxencheeks, and a cinder, lodged on Ning-Po's flaxen wig, was scorching andsingeing. What a spectacle to meet a mother's eyes! Oh, Lady Bird, hasteto the rescue!

  She did not falter. In the twinkling of an eye she had dashed into theburning room, had caught Stella from her bed, the others from theirchairs, and with all four hugged tight to her heart was making for thedoor. Ah! a spark fell on the white apron, on the holland frock! Herrapid movement fanned it. It flickered, blazed, the red flame rushedupward. What would have happened I dare not think, if just at thatmoment a gentleman, who was hastening down the garden walk, had notcaught sight of the little figure, and, with a horrified exclamation,seized, held it fast, wrapped round it a great woollen shawl from hisown shoulders, and in one moment put out the deadly fire which wassnatching at the sweet young life. Who was this gentleman, do youthink, thus arrived at the very nick of time? Why, no other than LadyBird's own Papa, come home from China a few weeks before any oneexpected him!

  I cannot pretend to describe all that followed on that bewildering day,the dismay of Grandmamma and Nursey, the wrath of Jennings over thematch, the joy of everybody at Lady Bird's escape, or her own confusionof mind at the fire and the excitement and the new Papa, who was and wasnot the Papa of the letters. At first she hugged the rescued dolls andsaid nothing. But Papa gave her time to get used to him, and she soondid so. He was very kind and nice, and did not laugh at the children andcall them names as Isabel had done, but felt Stella's pulse, recommendedpomatum for the scorch on Imogene's forehead, and even produced a littleout of his own dressing-case. Best of all, he led Lady Bird upstairs,unlocked a box and showed her a beautiful little Chinese lady in purplesilk and lovely striped muslin trowsers, which he had brought for her.

  "Another child for you to take care of," said Papa.

  Pocahontas Maria wrote in her Diary the next day:--

  "My Grandpapa has come home from China. He is _very_ nice. He brought mea little Chinese sister. Her name is Loo Choo, he says, but Mamma callsher Loo Loo, because it sounds prettier. Grandpapa treats us verykindly, and never says 'dolls,' as Isabel Berners did; and he went tocall on Lady Green with Mamma. I'm so glad he is come."

  When Lady Bird read this she kissed Pocahontas and said,--

  "That's right, dear; so am I!"