Not Quite Eighteen
THE CORN-BALL MONEY, AND WHAT BECAME OF IT.
Dotty and Dimple were two little sisters, who looked so much alike thatmost people took them for twins. They both had round faces, blue eyes,straight brown hair, cut short in the neck, and cheeks as firm and pinkas fall apples; and, though Dotty was eleven months the oldest, Dimplewas the taller by half an inch, so that altogether it was veryconfusing.
I don't believe any twins could love each other better than did theselittle girls. Nobody ever heard them utter a quarrelsome word from thetime they waked in the morning, and began to chatter and giggle in bedlike two little squirrels, to the moment when they fell asleep at night,with arms tight clasped round each other's necks. They liked the samethings, did the same things, and played together all day long withoutbeing tired. Their father's farm was two miles from the nearestneighbor, and three from the schoolhouse; so they didn't go to school,and no little boys and girls ever came to see them.
Should you think it would be lonely to live so? Dotty and Dimple didn't.They had each other for playmates, and all outdoors to play in, and thatwas enough.
The farm was a wild, beautiful spot. A river ran round two sides of it;and quite near the house it "met with an accident," as Dotty said; thatis, it tumbled over some high rocks in a waterfall, and then, pickingitself up, took another jump, and landed, all white and foaming, in adeep wooded glen.
The water where it fell was dazzling with rainbows, like soap-bubbles;and the pool at the bottom had the color of a green emerald, only thatall over the top little flakes of sparkling spray swam and glittered inthe sun. Altogether it was a wonderful place, and the children werenever tired of watching the cascade or hearing the rush and roar of itsleap.
All summer long city people, boarding in the village, six miles off,would drive over to see the fall. This was very interesting, indeed!Carryalls and big wagons would stop at the gate, and ladies get out,with pretty round hats and parasols; and gentlemen, carrying canes; anddear little children, in flounced and braided frocks. And they would allcome trooping up close by the house, on their way to see the view.Sometimes, but not often, one would stop to get a drink of water or askthe way. Dotty and Dimple liked very much to have them come. They wouldhide, and peep out at the strangers, and make up all kinds of storiesabout them; but they were too shy to come forward or let themselves beseen. So the people from the city never guessed what bright eyes werelooking at them from behind the door or on the other side of the bushes.But all the same, it was great fun for the children to have them come,and they were always pleased when wheels were heard and wagons drove upto the gate.
It was early last summer that a droll idea popped into Dotty's head. Itall came from a man who, walking past, and stopping to see the fall, satdown a while to rest, and said to the farmer:--
"I should think you'd charge people something for looking at that ereplace, stranger."
"No," replied Dotty's father. "I don't calculate on asking folks nothingfor the use of their eyes."
"Well," said the man, getting up to go, "you might as well. It's whatfolks is doing all over the country. If 't was mine, I'd fix up a lunchor something, and fetch 'em that way."
But the farmer only laughed. That night, when Dotty and Dimple were inbed, they began to whisper to each other about the man.
"Wasn't it funny," giggled Dimple, "his telling Pa to fix a lunch?"
"Yes," said Dotty. "But I'll tell you what, Dimple! when he said that, Ihad such a nice plan come into my head. You know you and me can makereal nice corn-balls."
"'Course we can."
"Well, let's get Pa, or else Zach, to make us a little table,--out ofboards, you know; and let's put it on the bank, close to the place wherefolks go to see the fall; and every day let's pop a lot of corn, andmake some balls, and set them on the table for the folks to eat. Don'tyou think that would be nice?"
"I'm afraid Mother wouldn't let us have so much molasses," said thepractical Dimple.
"Oh, but don't you see I mean to have the folks _pay_ for 'em! We'll puta paper on the table, with 'two cents apiece,' or something like that,on it. And then they'll put the money on the table, and when they'regone away we'll go and fetch it. Won't that be fun? Perhaps there'd be agreat, great deal,--most as much as a dollar!"
"Oh, no," cried Dimple, "not so much as _that_! But we might get agreenback. How much is a greenback, Dot?"
"Oh, I don't know," replied Dotty. "A good deal, I know, but I guess itisn't so much as a dollar."
The little sisters could hardly sleep that night, they were so excitedover their plan. Next morning they were up with the birds; and beforebreakfast Mother, Father, and Zach, the hired man, had heard all aboutthe wonderful scheme.
Mother said she didn't mind letting them try; and Zach, who was veryfond of the children, promised to make the table the very first thingafter the big field was ploughed. And so he did; and a very nice tableit was, with four legs and a good stout top. Dotty and Dimple laughedwith pleasure when they saw it.
Zach set it on the bank just at the place where the people stood to lookat the view; and he drove a stake at each corner; and found some oldsheeting, and made a sort of tent over the table, so that the sun shouldnot shine under and melt the corn-balls. When it was all arranged, andthe table set out, with the corn-balls on one plate and maple-sugarcakes on another, it looked very tempting, and the children wereextremely proud of it. Dotty cut a sheet of paper, and printed upon itthe following notice:
"Corn bals 2 sents apece. Sugar 1 sent apece. Plese help yure selfs and put the munney on the table."
This was pinned to the tent, right over the table.
The first day four people came to visit the waterfall; and when thechildren ran down to look, after they had driven away, half theprovisions were gone, and there on the table lay four shining five-centpieces! The next day was not so good; they only made four cents. And soit went on all summer. Some days a good many people would come, and agood many pennies be left on the table; and other days nobody wouldcome, and the wasps would eat the maple-sugar, and fly away withoutpaying anything at all. But little by little the tin box in Mother'sdrawer got heavier and heavier, until at last, early in October, Dottydeclared that she was tired of making corn-balls, and she guessed thecity-folks were all gone home; and now wouldn't Mother please to countthe money, and see how much they had got?
So Mother emptied the tin box into her lap, with a great jingle ofpennies and rustling of fractional currency. And how much do you thinkthere was? Three dollars and seventy-eight cents! The seventy-eightcents Mother said would just about pay for the molasses; so there werethree dollars all their own,--for Dotty and Dimple to spend as theyliked!
You should have seen them dance about the kitchen! Three dollars! Why,it was a fortune! It would buy everything in the world! They had fiftyplans, at least, for spending it; and sat up so late talking them over,and had such red cheeks and excited eyes, that Mother said she wasafraid they wouldn't sleep one wink all night. But, bless you! they did,and were as bright as buttons in the morning.
For a week there was nothing talked about but the wonderful threedollars. And then one evening Father, who had been over to the village,came home with a very grave face, and, drawing a newspaper from hispocket, read them all about the great fire in Chicago.
He read how the flames, spreading like wind, swept from one house toanother, and how people had just time to run out of their homes, leavingeverything to burn; how women, with babies in their arms, and frightenedchildren crouched all that dreadful night out on the cold, wet prairie,without food or clothes or shelter; how little boys and girls ranthrough the burning streets, crying for the parents whom they could notfind; how everybody had lost everything.
"Oh," said Dimple, almost crying, as she listened to the piteous story,"how dreadful those little girls must feel! And I suppose all theirdollies are burned up too. I wouldn't have Nancy burned in a fire foranything!" and, picking up an old doll, of who
m she was very fond, shehugged her with unspeakable affection.
That night there was another long, mysterious confabulation in thechildren's bed; and, coming down in the morning, hand in hand, Dotty andDimple announced that they had made up their minds what to do with thecorn-ball money.
"We're going to send it to the Sicago," said Dimple, "to those poorlittle girls whose dollies are all burned up!"
"How will you send it?" asked their Mother.
"In a letter," said Dotty. "And please, Pa, write on the outside: 'FromDotty and Dimple, to buy some dollies for the little girls whose dollieswere burned up in the fire.'"
So their father put the money into an envelope, and wrote on the outsidejust what Dotty said. And, when he had got through, he put his hands inhis pockets and walked out of the room. The children wondered what madehis face so red, and when they turned round, there was Mother with tearsin her eyes.
"Why, what's the matter?" cried they. But their Mother only put her armsround them and kissed them very hard. And she whispered to herself: "Ofsuch is the Kingdom of Heaven."