Dick and Dolly

  CHAPTER XVIII

  A LOVELY PLAN

  When the boys reached the group assembled in the library, Dolly hadjust begun to tell the story of the fire.

  Up to that time, the aunts had been employed in dressing the burnedfinger, and in recovering their own mental poise.

  “You see,” Dolly was saying, “it was an accident, Aunt Rachel, but it_wasn’t_ mischief, for you told me yourself how you used to make a firein that little stove.”

  “Oh,” said Aunt Rachel, comprehending at last. “Did you girls make afire in the playhouse stove?”

  “Yes’m; the pipe was up, you know, and it burned all right,—it hardlysmoked at all. Then one of the paper dolls fell against it and set fireto all the rest.”

  “The stove got so awful hot,” observed Pinkie, “and it was trying topick up that paper doll that Dolly burned her finger.”

  “And upset the stove?” asked Aunt Abbie.

  “No, Auntie, the stove didn’t upset. But Mrs. Obbercrombie caughtablaze, and then she fell over against the other paper people, and theyall flared up.”

  “Whew, Dolly!” exclaimed Dick. “Then you kindled that whole fireyourself! You ought to have known better than to stuff a place withpaper dolls and then set a match to it!”

  “But I didn’t, Dick,” declared Dolly. “The fire was all right at first,only it kept making the little stove hotter and hotter, until it wentoff.”

  “Well, it’s lucky Dick heard you yell,” put in Jack, “or the whole ofthe big house would have burned as well as the little one.”

  “I don’t know what to say to you, Dolly,” said Aunt Rachel. “I rememberthat I did tell you I used to have a fire in that stove, but I onlyburned a tiny bit of paper and let it go right out. I never thought of acontinued fire. And I really think you ought to have realised the dangerof a fire near so much light paper.”

  “Why, I never once thought of that, Aunt Rachel. I never s’posed firecould jump through an iron stove, and burn up a paper doll! I thought ifwe kept the little door shut, the flames would stay inside.”

  “Oh, Dolly,” said Aunt Abbie, smiling a little in spite of herself, “youshould have known better. But you’re not entirely to blame. We did tellyou that we used to have real fire in that stove, but father was alwayswith us to look after it. Children should _never_ play with fire alone.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that before, Aunt Abbie?” said Dolly, looking ather with a gentle reproach in her big dark eyes. “If you had, I’d havecalled you up, ’fore we lit it the first time!”

  “Phyllis,” said Miss Rachel, turning to the little guest, “does yourmother let you play with fire.”

  “Why, no, Miss Rachel,” said Pinkie, in surprise. “But then, mothernever lets us do any of the things you let Dick and Dolly do. We haven’tany garden or arbour or Lady Eliza or playhouse——”

  At this, both Pinkie and Dolly began to cry afresh, for they rememberedthat now Dolly had no playhouse either! That beautiful house and barnand lawn and ponds,—all a mass of black, smoking ruins!

  Dolly flew to her Aunt Rachel and buried her head on her broad,comforting shoulder as she sobbed out her woe.

  “Oh, Auntie,” she wailed; “isn’t it dreadful! Those lovely little bedsand bureaus, and the dolls Aunt Nine dressed,—and the looking-glasslake, and that little spotted pig,—he was _so_ cunning,—and the giltclock in the parlour,—oh—ooh—o-o-ooh!”

  “There, dearie, there, there,——” soothed Miss Rachel, wonderingwhether Aunt Nine would think Dolly ought to be punished, and if so,what for.

  “I wasn’t naughty, was I, Auntie?” went on Dolly, between her sobs. “Iwouldn’t be so naughty as to burn up my dear playhouse on purpose!”

  “Of course you didn’t do it on purpose, dear; and I don’t believe youwere really naughty. But never mind that, now. Even if you were, you’repunished enough by the loss of the playhouse.”

  “Yes, I think I am. We were having _such_ fun, Pinkie and I. And,Auntie, it wasn’t a bit Pinkie’s fault either. We wouldn’t either of ushave thought of making a fire, if you hadn’t said we could. I mean, yousaid you used to do it.”

  “Yes, Dolly, dear; I fully realise how it all happened, and I’m notgoing to blame either you or Phyllis. I think you should have known itwas a dangerous pastime, but if you’ll promise never to play with fireor matches again, we’ll count this affair merely as an accident. But itwas a pretty bad accident, and I’m very thankful that only the playhousewas burned. I shudder to think what might have happened to you twolittle girls!”

  “And to the whole house!” said Miss Abbie. “If Dick hadn’t heard youscream, and if Michael and Pat hadn’t been at home, we might have noroof over our heads now!”

  Then Phyllis and Jack went home, and the others went up to the playroom,to see what was left in the ruins. Michael and Pat were still cleaningup, but the whole room had been more or less affected by the smoke, ifnot by the flame.

  The rug, being a thick, Oriental one, had not suffered much, but thewallpaper and woodwork were sadly marred, the curtains were a wreck, andthe furniture was scratched and broken.

  As to the playhouse, the actual framework was fairly intact, exceptwhere the dining-room had been burned away, but it was blackened andcharred everywhere.

  Miss Rachel directed the men to take it to the cellar, and leave itthere for the present.

  “Sometime,” she said, “we may have it rebuilt and re-decorated, but Ican’t seem to think about it just now. Do you want to keep any of thesethings, Dolly?”

  Dolly looked over the half-burned toys that Dick and Jack had picked outof the ruins, and more tears came as she recognised what had been theblue satin sofa, and the baby’s crib.

  “No, I don’t want them,” she said; “they only make me feel worse.”

  Then they found the little stove, that had been the immediate cause ofthe catastrophe. It was unharmed, except that it looked dull instead ofshiny, as before.

  “I think you’d better set this on the mantel, Dolly,” said Aunt Abbie,“to remind you not to play with fire.”

  “I’ll never play with fire again, Auntie,” said Dolly. “But I will putit on the mantel, to remind me of my dear playhouse. Oh, I did love itso!”

  Dolly had a great fondness for all her belongings, and the playhouse,with its myriad delights was her dearest and best beloved possession.

  “It’s too bad, Dollums,” said Dick. “If Aunt Rachel ever does decide tohave the house done over, I’ll do the yard all over again for you.”

  “An’ I’ll make yez a new barn,” said Michael, who was just removing theburned remnants of the old one; “but I can’t be doin’ it this summer;there’s too much other wurrk. Next winter, when the wurrk is lighter,I’ll have a thry at it.”

  And none of them felt like doing right over again the work they had doneso recently, so the burned-out cottage was put in the cellar, and stayedthere for a long time. The playroom itself had to be done over at once.

  A carpenter had to come first, and replace the burned window sill, wherethe curtains had blazed up; then the paper-hangers and painters; so thatit was several weeks before the room could be used.

  Meantime, Dick and Dolly played out in their out-of-doors playground.

  It was now late in May, and the flowering vines had almost covered thelong arbour, making a delightful place to sit and read, or make thingsat the table. The twins loved to make things, and often they thoughtthey’d make furniture for the renovated playhouse, but it’s hard to dothings so far ahead, and so they didn’t get at it.

  Fortunately Lady Eliza had been on the other side of the playroom duringthe fire, so had escaped without even a scorch.

  But Dick and Dolly played she was a great heroine, and oftencongratulated her on her narrow escape from the fearful conflagration.They never grew tired of Lady Eliza. She was useful for so many games,and all the children who visited the twins learned to look upon El
iza asone of their own crowd.

  “Let’s have a party for Eliza,” said Dolly, one day, as she and Dickwere working in their gardens. “Oh, Dick, there’s a thrush! Sh! don’tfrighten him.”

  Silently the children watched, as a thrush perched on a nearby branch,and sang his best musical selection. There is more sentiment in athrush’s song than in that of any other of our birds, and though thetwins didn’t recognise exactly that fact, they loved to listen to thethrush.

  It was their habit, after carefully watching a bird, to look it up intheir big, illustrated “Birds of North America,” and learn its name andhabits.

  “That’s a Hermit Thrush,” whispered Dolly. “See the lots of spots on hischest.”

  “Maybe,” said Dick, softly; “but I think it’s the Olive-Backed Thrush.See how brown his back and tail are.”

  “Yes, perhaps it is. Listen to his call,—he says ‘Whee-oo! Too-whee!’We must look him up to make sure. Oh, there comes a robin after him! Nowthey’ll fight!”

  “Go ’way, you horrid thing!” called Dick to the big, fat RobinRedbreast, but unheeding, the robin flew at the thrush, and botheredhim, until the thrush flew away, and Dick and Dolly saw it no more.

  “I think it’s too bad robins are so cross,” said Dolly, “and they’re sopretty, too. I’d love them, if they wouldn’t pick-peck at the otherbirds.”

  “They are horrid,” said Dick; “but if we didn’t have robins, we wouldn’thave much of anything. There are so few of the other birds,—’ceptin’sparrows.”

  “That’s so; well, as I was saying before the thrush came, let’s giveLady Eliza a party.”

  “Let’s ask Aunt Rachel first,” said Dick.

  The twins were learning to ask permission beforehand, when they plannedanything out of the ordinary. This had already saved them trouble, andthe aunts were already congratulating themselves that the children werelearning to “think.”

  “Yes, we will. But don’t let’s go in now. Let’s plan it, and then we’llask auntie before we really do anything about it.”

  “Well, who’ll we invite?”

  “That’s ’cordin’ how big the party is. If Auntie Rachel ’grees, let’shave a big party, ’bout a dozen, you know. And if she thinks bestest,we’ll only have Pinkie and Jack.”

  “But what’ll make it Eliza’s party?”

  “Why, we’ll ask each child to bring a doll or something, so’s to becomp’ny for her.”

  “Boys can’t bring dolls.”

  “I know; I’m thinking. Well, the boys can bring Teddy bears, or rockinghorses or anything that isn’t alive, and that part of it’ll be ’Liza’sparty, and the people part will be ours.”

  “Sounds good enough. Where’ll we have it?”

  “Here, of course; in the playground. We’ll fix it all up partified, andhave Japanese lanterns and everything.”

  “We can’t have ’em lighted. It’ll have to be a daytime party.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe auntie will let us have it ‘four to seven.’ We canlight the lanterns by six. It’s ’most dark then.”

  “All right. Let’s go ask her now, ’fore we plan any further. It’d behorrid to get it all fixed up and then have her say ‘No.’”

  The twins clasped hands and ran toward the house. Dolly’s golden tangleof curls bobbed up and down in the breeze, and Dick’s dark ringletsclustered tighter on his brow, as his face flushed with the exercise,but they ran evenly and swiftly together, keeping perfect step as theyflew over the ground.

  Bang! In at the library door they went, and tumbled upon Aunt Rachel,who sat in her usual chair, placidly holding her hands.

  “Oh, Auntie, may we——” gasped Dick, and, “Oh, Auntie, the loveliestplan!” panted Dolly, when they suddenly realised their aunt was notalone.

  A lady was calling, a lady very much dressed up and formal-looking, whoeyed the children with some severity and much curiosity.

  But Dick and Dolly had not proved dull pupils in the matter of etiquetteas taught in Heatherton households. By no means. As quickly as a soldierstands “at attention,” they stood up straight, advanced decorously tothe lady, and Dolly made her most careful courtesy, while Dick bowedcorrectly.

  “How do you do, Mrs. Witherbee?” they said, in decorous tones, andthough they were flushed and warm from their run, and just the leastmite out of breath, they reflected no discredit on their aunts byboisterous or informal behaviour.

  Aunt Rachel and Aunt Abbie sat proudly watching them, silently gratefulfor the twins’ exhibition of good manners, for Heatherton matrons werecritical of other people’s children, and Mrs. Witherbee was one of themost particular of all.

  “You may go,” said Aunt Rachel to the twins, after they had been dulyquestioned by the visitor, and with proper ceremonies of farewell, thetwins noiselessly left the room.

  “Well, I ’spect we behaved all right that time,” said Dick, as theystrolled back to the garden.

  “Yes, I promised Aunt Rachel I’d ’member my manners carefuller ’n ever.She does love to have us be polite.”

  “I know it; and it isn’t much trouble, after you get used to it.”

  It seemed as if Mrs. Witherbee never would finish her call, but it wasreally only about ten minutes later, when the twins saw her carriagedrive away. Again they raced to the house, this time to find the auntiesalone and expecting them.

  “Well, what’s it all about?” said Miss Abbie, after both ladies had beentreated to a fine demonstration of regard and esteem.

  “Why, we want to have a party,” began Dick.

  “For Lady Eliza,” broke in Dolly; “she’s never had a party, and she’djust love one. How many do you think we’d better ask?”

  “A party! For Eliza!” said Aunt Rachel, helplessly. “What do you mean?”

  “Yes, a party. Girls and boys, you know, and Teddy Bears, and dolls, andeverybody bring something.”

  “Bring something! to eat?” exclaimed Aunt Abbie, in dismay, for itsounded like a general picnic.

  “Oh, no, not to eat!” explained Dolly; “but to be company for Eliza,’cause it’s her party. And if you say so, we’ll only have Pinkie andJack, but we’d like to have more.”

  “Tell us about it more slowly,” suggested Aunt Abbie; “and don’t bothtalk at once.”

  “You tell, Dick,” said Dolly. “You can talk slower ’n I can.”

  “Well,” said Dick, “we thought it would be fun to have a party of abouta dozen boys and girls, but have it for Lady Eliza’s party,—just forfun, you know.”

  “And what’s this about bears?”

  “Yes; have each boy and girl bring a doll or a bear, or a hobby horse ora Jack-in-the-box, or anything like that, so it will be Eliza’s partytoo.”

  “Oh, I begin to see,” said Aunt Rachel. “I like the party idea; I’vebeen thinking you children might have a little party. But the Eliza partof it is crazy.”

  “Oh, no, it isn’t, Auntie,” said Dolly, who was patting her aunt on bothcheeks as she talked. “You see, all the boys and girls love Lady Eliza’most as much as we do. And they’d be glad to have it be her party,too.”

  “Well, we’ll have to talk it over, and see about it,” said Miss Rachel;“but now it’s time for you to run and get ready for tea.”

  “All right, Auntie. But _do_ decide soon, for Eliza is _so_ impatient toknow.”

  “Tell her she’ll have to wait, Dolly. But I’ll let her know byto-morrow, if that will do.”

  “Yes, Auntie, that will do, I’m sure;” and with a final pat and a kiss,Dolly skipped away.