CHAPTER XII
TOTTY AND DOTTY
"Marjorie," said her mother, one Saturday morning, "I expect Mrs.Harrison to spend the day. She will bring her little baby with her, andI want you to stay at home, so that you can wheel the baby about if sheasks you to do so."
"I will, Mother. The Jinks Club meets here this afternoon anyway, andthis morning I'll stay at home. Can't I ask Gladys to come over? We'dlove to take care of the baby together."
"Yes, have Gladys if you like. I don't mind."
Mrs. Maynard went off to look after housekeeping affairs, and Marjorieran over to ask Gladys to come and spend the morning.
The two girls were sitting on a bench under a tree on the front lawn,when they saw Mrs. Harrison come in at the gate. She was wheeling herbaby-carriage, and Marjorie ran to meet her.
"How do you do, Mrs. Harrison?" she said. "Mother is expecting you.Come right on up to the house. Mayn't I wheel Baby for you?"
"I wish you would, my dear. I gave nurse a holiday, but I didn't realizehow tiresome that heavy carriage is, after wheeling it so many blocks."
Marjorie pushed the little coach, while Gladys danced alongside, talkingto the winsome baby.
"What's her name, Mrs. Harrison?" she said.
"Oh!" replied the young mother, "she has the dignified name ofKatharine, but we never call her that. I'm ashamed to say we call herTotty."
"I think Totty is a lovely name," said Midget. "It makes me think ofDotty, a baby who lives about a block away from us. She's just the samesize as this baby."
"Probably she's older, then," said Mrs. Harrison, complacently; "Totty'sjust a year old, but she's much larger than most children of that age."
"Yes, I suppose so," said Midget, wagging her head wisely, though shereally knew little about the comparative sizes of infants. Mrs. Maynardawaited them at the front door, and the procession arrived with aflourish.
"Here we are, Mother," announced Marjorie, and she and Gladys liftedbaby Totty out of her nest of pillows and knit afghans.
"Why, how handy you are, child," said Mrs. Harrison. "But give her to menow, and I'll look after her."
Marjorie handed the pretty burden over, and said:
"But mayn't we take her out for a ride, Mrs. Harrison? I'm sure sheought to be out in the fresh air this morning."
"I'll see about it later," said Totty's mother, and then she went intothe house with her hostess, and the girls ran away to play.
But an hour later, Mrs. Maynard called Marjorie, and said she might takethe baby for a ride.
Gleefully, Marjorie and Gladys ran into the house.
They helped arrange Miss Totty's coat and cap, and so merry were theythat the baby laughed and crowed, and made friends at once.
"How she takes to you!" said Mrs. Harrison. "Sometimes she is afraid ofstrangers, but she seems to love you."
"'Cause I love her," said Midge; "she's a sweet baby, and so good.Shall I bring her in if she cries, Mrs. Harrison?"
"Yes; but she won't cry. She's more likely to go to sleep."
The little lady was tucked into her carriage; white mittens on her tinyhands, and a white veil over her rosy face.
"Does she need the veil?" asked Mrs. Maynard, doubtfully. "It isn't coldto-day."
"No," said Mrs. Harrison; "but the breeze is brisk; and she's used to alight veil. I think she'd better wear it."
"How far can we go?" asked Marjorie, as the preparations were completed.
"Stay in the yard, mostly," said her mother. "If you go out in thestreet, don't go more than two blocks away."
"All right, we won't," said Marjorie. "Come on, Glad." The two littlegirls started off with the baby-carriage.
"She's a careful child," said Mrs. Harrison, as she noticed Marjorieturn a corner with precision.
"Yes," said Mrs. Maynard. "And she's devoted to children. You need haveno fear of Totty."
"Oh, I haven't," said Mrs. Harrison, and then the two friends returnedto the house, and sat down for a long chat.
The girls had a fine time with the baby. They rolled the carriagecarefully, pausing now and then to present their little guest with abright autumn leaf, or a big horse-chestnut, which they picked up fromthe ground.
"Let's pretend she's an infant princess, and we're kidnapping her," saidMarjorie.
"All right; what's her name?"
"Princess Petronella," said Marjorie, promptly, using a favorite name ofhers.
"I don't think much of that," said Gladys; "I like Ermyntrude."
"Both, then," said Marjorie; for this was a way they often settled theirdifferences. "Her name is Princess Ermyntrude Petronella; and we callher Ermyn Pet for short."
"But we ought to call her Princess," objected Gladys.
"Well, we will. But remember we're kidnapping her for a great reward.Hist! Some one cometh!"
They hustled the carriage behind a great pine-tree, in pretended fearof a pursuer, though no one was in sight.
"How much shall we charge for ransom?" asked Gladys, in the hollow voicethat they always used in their make-believe games.
"A thousand rubbles," answered Marjorie; "and unless the sum isforthcoming ere set of sun, the Princess shall be,--shall be----"
Marjorie hesitated. It seemed dreadful to pronounce fate, even inmake-believe, on that dimpled, smiling bit of humanity.
"Shall be imprisoned," suggested Gladys.
"Yes, imprisoned in an enchanted castle."
Totty crowed and gurgled, as if greatly pleased with her destiny, andthe girls wheeled her along the path to the gate.
"She reminds me so much of Dotty Curtis," said Midget. "Let's go downthat way and see if Dotty's out. Mother said we could go two blocks."
On they went, crossing the curbs with great care, and soon turned in atMrs. Curtis' house.
Sure enough, there was the nurse wheeling the Curtis baby around thedrive.
"Good-morning," said Marjorie, who was friendly with Nurse Lisa. "Howis Dotty to-day?"
"She's well, Miss Marjorie," replied Lisa; "and who's the fine childwith you?"
"This is little Totty Harrison; and I think she looks like Dot. Let'scompare them."
The veils were taken off the two children, and sure enough they did looksomewhat alike.
"They're both darlings," said Marjorie, as she gently replaced Totty'sveil. "Lisa, won't you let Gladys wheel Dotty for awhile, and I'll wheelTotty. That would be fun."
"I'll willingly leave her with you for a bit, Miss Gladys. I've somework to do in the house, and if you'll keep baby for a few minutes itwould be a great thing for me. Mrs. Curtis is out, but I know she'dtrust you with the child, if the other lady does. But don't go off theplace."
"No," said Marjorie; "this place is so big there's room enough anyway. Ipromise you we won't go outside the gates, Lisa."
"Isn't this fun?" cried Marjorie, as Lisa went away. "Now, we have twokidnapped princesses. Or shall we play house with them?"
"No, let's have them princesses. Now you can name yours Petronella, andI'll name mine Ermyntrude."
This momentous question settled, the game went on. They pretended thatthe princesses were anxious to get back to their respective homes, andthat they must resort to bribery and strategy to keep them contented.
"Nay, nay, Princess Petronella," Marjorie would say; "weep not forfriends and family. I will take you to a far better place, where flowersgrow and birds sing and--and----"
"And gold-fish swim," went on Gladys, who always followed Marjorie'slead, "and roosters crow--cock-a-doodle-doo!!"
This climax, accompanied as it was by Gladys' flapping her arms andprancing about, greatly delighted both princesses, and they laughed andclamored for more.
"Aren't they dears!" exclaimed Marjorie, as she looked at the two prettybabies. "Methinks no ransom is forthcoming. Must we resort to our direand dreadful doom?"
"Aye, aye!" said Gladys. "To the enchanted castle with the fatalvictims."
So long as the girls used tragic-sounding wor
ds they didn't always carewhether they made sense or not.
"On, on, then!" cried Midget. "On, on! To victory, or defeat!"
Each pushing a carriage, they ran down the long drive, across the widelawn, and paused, flushed and breathless, at a rustic summer-house.
Into the arbor they pushed the two coaches, and then dropped, laughing,on the seats.
The babies laughed, too, and both Dotty and Totty seemed to think thatto be a captive princess was a delightful fate. The girls sat still forawhile to rest, but the game went on.
"Shall it be the donjon keep?"
"Nay, not for these, so young and fair," answered Gladys. "Let's chainthem with rose garlands to a silken couch."
"Huh!" said Marjorie, "that's not a dire fate. Let's do something that'smore fun. Oh, Glad, I'll tell you what! Let's exchange these babies!That's what they always do in tragedies. Listen! We'll put Dotty's hoodon Totty, and Totty's cap on Dotty. And change their coats, too!"
"Yes, and veils; oh, Mops! What fun! If we change their coats quicklythey won't catch cold."
"Cold, pooh! It's as warm as summer."
It wasn't quite that, but it was a lovely, sunshiny day in earlyOctober, and, after running, it seemed quite warm to the girls.
Following out their project, they quickly exchanged the babies' wraps.
By this time both little ones were growing sleepy, and were in a quiet,tractable frame of mind.
"Their little white dresses are almost alike, anyway," said Gladys, asshe took off Totty's coat.
"Oh, well, we wouldn't think of changing their dresses," said Mopsy;"but let's change their little shoes. I'd like to see Totty in thosecunning ankle-ties."
"And I'd like to see Dotty in those pretty blue kid shoes."
"Of course, we'll change them right back, but I just want to see howthey look."
Soon the transformation was complete. To all outward appearance ofcostume, Dotty was Totty, and Totty was Dotty. Even the veils werechanged, as one was of silk gauze, the other of knitted zephyr.
Then, not in their own, but in each other's carriage, the reversedprincesses nodded and beamed at their captors.
"Now, you push that carriage, and I'll push this," said Marjorie, takinghold of the carriage she had pushed all the time, though now it had theother baby in it.
"All right," said Gladys, "let's go round by the garden."
Slowly now, the girls went round by the large well-kept kitchen garden,and then through the flower gardens back to the front lawn.
"Why," said Marjorie, suddenly, "both these children are asleep!"
"Mrs. Harrison said Totty would go to sleep," said Gladys. "I guess allbabies go to sleep about this time in the morning. It seems too bad towake them up to change their coats back again, but I think we ought totake Totty back, don't you?"
"Yes, I do. Suppose we leave the coats and caps as they are, and thenafterward we can bring back Dotty's things and get Totty's."
"Here you are!" cried Lisa, coming to meet them at the front door."You're good little girls to mind the baby for me. I'll take her now,and I thank you much."
As Lisa spoke, she took hold of the Curtis carriage, which contained theHarrison baby.
"Ah, she's asleep, bless her heart!" she exclaimed, looking at theclosed eyes, almost hidden by the white veil. "I'm glad she's getting afine nap. Run along now with your own baby."
Partly confused by Lisa's quick and peremptory dismissal, and partlyimpelled by a sudden mischievous idea, Marjorie smiled a good-bye, andbegan trundling the other carriage toward the gate.
"Why, Midge!" whispered Gladys, aghast. "We've got the wrong baby! Thisis Dotty Curtis!"
"Keep still!" whispered Marjorie. "I know it. But it's a good joke onthat snippy Lisa."
"She wasn't snippy."
"Yes, she was; she said 'Run along now, little girls,' after we've beenhelping her all the morning. She's going to let the baby stay asleep inthe carriage, and she won't know it till she wakes up."
"Who won't? The baby?"
"No, Lisa. And then she'll be scared, and it will serve her right."
"But what about Mrs. Harrison? You don't want to scare her."
"That's just the thing," explained Marjorie. "I want to see if she'llknow the difference in the babies. They say mothers can always telltheir own children. Now we'll see."
"It's a great joke," said Gladys, giggling. "But suppose they never findit out, and the children live with their wrong mothers all their lives!"
"Don't be silly," said Marjorie.