CHAPTER X.
THE END OF THE WORLD.
Dotty shuddered. It seemed so unearthly and horrible to be awake atnight; to see a lamp burning, and Katie looking so very white. It wasthe strawberries which had made her ill, as Miss Polly confessed. Whenthat good but ignorant woman had gone down stairs, Dotty had much ado tokeep from screaming outright.
"I thought somebody would die," said she to herself; "but I didn'ts'pose it would be Katie. O, Katie, Katie Clifford! you're thecunningist child. We can't have you die!"
"Somebody leave me alone," moaned Katie; "and 'twas you'n the Pollywoman. I don't love anybody in this world!"
"Darling! I didn't mean to," said Dotty, "now honest. Polly said, 'O,dear! she was going to die'; but I might have known she wouldn't. Shetold a wrong story--I mean she made a mistake."
"You was naughty," said Katie, "velly naughty; but you didn't mean to."
"No, Katie; 'twas Polly that was naughty."
"The krilt got off o' me," said Katie, picking at the tufted coverlet;"and then I was sick."
"Miss Polly said it was the strawberries, darling; and the cream pouredover them so thick."
"And getting into the watering-trough," added Dotty to herself,uneasily.
"Yes," sighed Katie: "'twas the stawbollies. Did _I_ ask for thestawbollies? No, but the Polly woman gave 'em to me. Didn't want 'em; Iwanted to be well."
After two weary hours, which seemed as long as days almost, poor littleKatie was easier, and fell asleep. Dotty, who had taken several naps inher chair, would now have gone to bed again; but Miss Polly was dressed,and said she could not close her eyes if she tried; she meant to go downstairs to her knitting. Dotty was afraid to stay alone. She was always alittle timid, and to-night her nerves had been considerably tried. Thelamp cast frightful shadows, and the newly-risen moon shone through thewhite curtains with ghostly light. She could "preach" to Jennie Vanceabout God's "holding the whole world in his arms;" but she could notalways remember it herself. She put on a white wrapper of Susy's, and,looking like a wimpled nun, followed Polly down stairs. If she thoughtof wee Katie at all, she thought there were good angels in the room toguard her; but she could not trust _herself_ with them; she would ratherkeep close to Polly.
"I think," whispered Polly, unlocking the back door and looking out atthe sky, "it must be very near morning; but the clocks have both rundown, and I can only guess at the time by my feelings."
Then Polly made a brisk fire in the stove, and set the tea-kettle tohumming.
"Now I will get the milk-pail," said she, "and you may put on thetea-pot. I am faint for want of something to drink."
It was one of Polly's peculiarities that she always talked to childrenas if they had as much judgment as grown people. Dotty did not knowwhere to look for any tea-pot except the very best one, which stood ona shelf in the china closet; that she brought and set on the stove,empty.
"Let me go too, let me go too!" cried she, as Polly was walking out withthe milk-pails.
The daisies, with "their little lamps of dew," seemed still asleep, andso did all the "red-mouthed flowers" in the garden. The cows looked upwith languid surprise at sight of their visitors, but offered noobjections to being milked. Dotty gave one hasty peep at the white hensitting on the venerable duck's eggs; but the hen seemed offended. Dottyran away, and took a survey of the "green gloom" of the trees, in themidst of which was suspended the swing, looking now as melancholy as agallows.
"O, what a dreadful night this is!" thought the child, standing boltupright, lest she should fall asleep. "Where's the sun? He hasn't takenoff his red silk night cap. He hasn't got back from China yet. Onlythink,--if he shouldn't come back at all! I heard somebody say, theother day, the world was coming to an end. Miss Polly," said she, aloud,re-entering the barn, "isn't this the longest night you ever saw in allthe days of your life?"
"Yes, it has been considerable long, I am free to confess," repliedPolly, who thought she had had a very hard time keeping house, as wasindeed the truth.
"Do you s'pose, Miss Polly, that some morning the sun won't rise anymore?"
"O, yes," replied Miss Polly, who was always ready with a hymn:--
"'God reigns above,--he reigns alone; Systems burn out, and leave His throne.'
"Why, yes, dear; the world will certainly come to an end one of thesedays; and _then_ the sun won't rise, of course; there won't be anysun."
And Miss Polly began to hum one of her sorrowful tunes, beating timewith the two streams of milk which dripped mournfully into the pail.
"She is afraid this is the end of the world," thought Dotty, with athrobbing heart, and a stifling sensation at the throat; "she don'tbelieve the sun is ever going to rise any more."
The music suddenly ceased.
"These are very poor cows," said Polly, in a reflective tone; "or elsethey don't give down their milk. I understood you to say, Dotty, thatRuth milked very early."
"If everything's coming to an end, it's no wonder the cows act so," saidDotty, to herself, but she dared not say it aloud.
They went into the house, the trail of Susy's long wrapper followingafter little Dotty Dimple like the closing feet in one of Polly'slong-metre verses. Still the moon shone with the same white, ghostlylight, and the sun continued to keep away.
"This beats all," said Polly, mournfully; as she washed her hands,strained the milk, and set the pans away. "If I judged by my feelings, Ishould say it must be six o'clock, or very near it. At any rate, I'mgoing to have a cup of tea. What's this smell?"
On the stove stood a pool of something which looked like liquid silver,and proved to be the remains of the best tea-pot. At any other timeDotty would have felt very sorry; but now the accident seemed a meretrifle, when compared with the staying away of the sun. Who could tell"if ever morn should rise?"
Even Miss Polly, with her constitutional gloom, was not just now somiserable as Dotty, and never dreamed that it was anything butsleepiness which made the little girl so sober. Dotty was not a childwho could tell all the thoughts which troubled her youthful brain.
"Well, well," said Polly, giving another inquiring glance at the sky;"not a streak of daylight yet! I'll tell you what it is, Dotty; we mightas well go to bed."
But hark! As she spoke there was a loud report as of a pistol. It seemedto come from the cellar.
Miss Polly clapped both hands to her ears. Dotty shrieked, and hid herface in her lap, and shrieked again.
"It has come! It has come!" cried she,--meaning the end of theworld,--and stopped her ears.
"What, what, what!" whispered Polly, in sore affright, walking back andforth, and taking snuff as she went. It was certainly startling to heara pistol go off so unexpectedly, at that solemn hour, under one's veryroof. Polly naturally thought first of housebreakers. She had barred anddouble-barred every door and window; but now she remembered withdreadful remorse she had not fastened the outside cellar door. No doubtit had been left open, and burglars had got into the cellar. O, what aresponsibility had been put upon her! and why hadn't somebodyparticularly warned her to attend to that door? Perhaps the burglarswere stealing pork. But they would not have fired a pistol at thebarrel--would they? O, no; they were trying to blow up the house!
Polly took three pinches of snuff, one after the other, as fast as shecould, slipped off her shoes, went to the kitchen window, and peepedthrough the blinds. Not much to be seen but moonlight, and the deepshadows of the ragged trees.
Another pistol-shot; then another. The sound came from that part of thecellar called the soap-room, directly under Polly's feet.
She did not wait for further warning. Every moment was precious. Shemeant to save what lives she could, for Polly was strictlyconscientious. She took the nearly frantic Dotty into the china closet,dragging her like a sack of meal, and turned the key.
"Stay there, child, if you know when you're well off," whispered shethrough the keyhole. "The house is blowing up. I'm going to call Abner."
&nbs
p; In her consternation Polly had not reflected that Dotty was as likelyto be blown up in the closet as anywhere else. The unfortunate littlegirl screamed and struggled in her prison in vain. There was no way ofescape. Night of horrors! As far as she was concerned, there were twoends to the world, and they were coming right together. Her agony is notto be described.
Abner came very soon; but it seemed an age. Being a brave man who hadserved three months in the army, he had the courage to walk down cellarand face the enemy.
He found nothing worse, however, than a few bottles of beer which hadblown off their own heads. He brought them up in his arms.
"Here," said he, "are your burglars, with their throats cut from ear toear."
"Well, if I ever had such a fright in all the days of my life!" criedPolly, staring at the bottles, and catching her breath.
Abner poured some of the beer into a goblet, and drank to the health ofMiss Dimple, who climbed upon his knee, and felt as if the world hadsuddenly stopped coming to an end; and she was greatly relieved.
"But who fired the guns?" said she, not understanding yet what it allmeant.
"It was only the beer coming out to get the air," said Abner, takinganother glass. "You couldn't expect beer with the spirit of a hop in itto stay bottled up with a stopper in!"
"I never had such queer feelings," exclaimed Polly, rolling up her eyes;"and now it's all over, I feel as if I was going to faint away."
"I wouldn't advise you to," said Abner, coolly. "The enemy is routed,and victory is ours. Drink a little beer, Polly; it will revive yourspirits. But what is the object, may I ask, of your prowling about thehouse with this poor little girl at this hour of night?"
"Why, what time is it? I thought by my feelings it must have beendaybreak long enough ago."
It was Abner's private opinion that Polly would do well to think less ofher "feelings" now and always; but he only said, consulting his watch,--
"It's just one o'clock, ladies; time for respectable people to be inbed."
Polly said she had never felt such surprise before in her life. She wasafraid she should be sick; for sitting up in the night was always toomuch for her.
Dotty said her prayers over again, and fell into a sleep "sweeter than anest of nightingales." And with her last waking thought she thanked Godthe round red sun was not worn out yet, and the world had not come to anend.