CHAPTER VI--Daffodils and Daisies
"Daffydowndilly has come up to town, In a yellow petticoat and a green gown,"
sang little Friend Lydia, as she pushed the doll carriage up and down inthe warm spring sunshine. From the window of each little house inLydia's street, bowls of bright daffodils or tulips nodded to her as shepassed, and the flower-beds in the near-by park were masses of scarletand yellow bloom.
"It's spring, Lucy Locket," chattered Lydia. "That's why you have a newhat and a new dress. Sit up straight and don't crush your flowers." AndLydia sat Lucy up and straightened her gay rose-covered straw bonnet.
"There's Father coming," went on Lydia. "Hold on tight, and we'll gomeet him." And Lydia ran the carriage over the stones so fast that poorLucy slipped down under the blanket quite out of sight, hat and all.
_"IT'S SPRING, LUCY LOCKET," CHATTERED LYDIA. "THAT'S WHYYOU HAVE A NEW HAT AND A NEW DRESS"_]
"Father!" called Lydia. "There's something the matter with Miss Puss.She wouldn't come riding to-day, and she ran away from me down cellar.She's hiding behind a barrel and she won't come out."
"She probably doesn't feel well," said Mr. Blake, waiting for Lydia atthe foot of their own steps. "I should leave her alone, if I were you,until she is better. You know when a cat is sick she goes off byherself, and I shouldn't be surprised if that is why Miss Puss hidesdown cellar. Perhaps she has spring fever." And Mr. Blake smiled downinto Lydia's anxious face.
"Can't you give her some medicine?" she asked. "You made me well when Ihad a pain."
"She may need a change of air," answered Father seriously. "Suppose wetake her to the country?"
"For a whole day, with lunch?"--and Lydia beamed at the thought.
"No, for the whole summer," said Father, pinching Lydia's cheek. "Lockthe front door here and go."
"When?" demanded Lydia, her eyes shining--"to-morrow? I'm ready. I havea new hat, and so has Lucy. Come up here, you poor child, and we'll goin and tell Mother." And Lydia dragged the long-suffering Lucy, stillsmiling, from under her blanket, and darted into the house, leavingFather to follow with the carriage.
"Mother, we're all going to the country!" cried Lydia, running into thestudio, where Mother was setting the table for lunch. "Maybe we'll goto-morrow. Shall I pack my bag right away?"
Mrs. Blake sat down to laugh.
"Well, now that Father has told you, the sooner we go the better, I'msure," said she. "Pack your bag, if you like, but I don't think we canbe ready to go before ten days at least."
"Ten days?" And Lydia looked as disappointed as if Mother had said tenyears.
"That isn't long," said Father encouragingly. "Come here, and I'll showyou how short it is."
Mr. Blake was busy with paper and scissors. Snip, snip, snip, and tenlittle paper dolls holding hands in a row were unfolded before Lydia'scurious eyes.
"Here's a doll for every day," said Mr. Blake. "Tear off one eachmorning until there is only one left, and that is the day we go to thecountry." And Father set Lydia on his shoulder and wheeled gayly aboutthe room.
"Come to lunch, you ridiculous pair," said Mother, laughing at them."Lydia, you haven't asked yet where you are going, and so I'll tell you.You are going up to Hyatt, where the children have their summer home,and our little house is just over the way from Friend Morris's bighouse. And you can see Mary Ellen and Sammy and all of them every day ifyou like, and Father's going to paint his masterpiece, and we'll havethe nicest summer we've ever had in all our lives."
And Mother, out of breath, with cheeks as pink as Lucy Locket's rosyhat, joined her "ridiculous pair" in a second dance of joy down the roomand back to the luncheon table again.
For the next ten days Lydia was as busy as a bumble-bee. She packed andunpacked her new little traveling-bag no less than a dozen times. Shetrotted about on errands until Father took to calling her "LittleFetch-and-Carry." She spent a great deal of time instructing Lucy Lockethow to behave on the train, and she tenderly cared for the invalid MissPuss, who was slowly recovering her former high spirits.
Day after day she tore off the paper dolls and put them away in a boxfor "Lucy to play with on the train," and when at last there was onlyone doll left, Lydia placed a kiss upon her tiny paper cheek.
"You are the nicest one of all," she whispered, "because to-day we go."
And go they did, Father carrying a heavy suitcase and Lydia's littlebag, Mother with Miss Puss in a wicker basket, and Lydia bearing theproud Lucy Locket, decked in her finest and on her very best behavior.Lydia waved good-bye to Tony, the iceman, and stopped to tell Joe, theone-legged newsboy, who had a paper-stand on the corner under theElevated Road, that she would be away all summer. Then after a shortride underground she found herself on the train, really bound for thecountry.
It is to be hoped that Lucy Locket and Miss Puss behaved on that trainride as well as they ought, for Lydia, with her nose pressed against thewindow-pane, was so interested in all she saw that she quite forgot hercharges, and could scarcely believe it when Father said, "There's theriver, Lydia. We get off station after next."
But sure enough, at station after next there stood Alexander ready tolift her down the high steps of the train, and to drive them all homealong the River Road behind Friend Morris's fine gray horses, Owen andGriff. Friend Morris was already settled for the summer, and she waswatching for them on the steps of her broad veranda, overlooking theriver, as Alexander swung round the drive and up to the door in finestyle.
Lydia leaned from the carriage for a peep at her own house just acrossthe road. She saw a low, white cottage, whose tiny porch, with a benchat either end, she decided at once would make a good place to playdolls. The vines over the porch fluttered a welcome to her, the treeswaved and beckoned her to come, and Lydia could scarcely wait to eat hersupper at Friend Morris's before running over and visiting every nookand corner of the little house. It was not very large inside, but whatof that when two big porches, one upstairs and one down, ran across theback of the house that overlooked the river.
"The downstairs porch is where we spend our days," said Mother, "and theupstairs porch is where we spend our nights."
"Me, too?" asked Lydia, all excitement at the prospect.
"You, too, Lyddy Ann," answered Father, "and Lucy Locket and Miss Pusslikewise, unless she chooses to spend her nights in the catnip bed."
For Miss Puss had scented the bed of catnip round the corner of thehouse, and was rolling and tumbling in it to her heart's content. Mr.Blake and Lydia stood enjoying the sight, and Father pointed out alittle garden bed that was to be Lydia's very own.
"Will you plant flowers or vegetables?" asked he.
"Flowers, please," said Lydia, her face aglow with pleasure. "Pink andred and blue and yellow ones I'd like."
"To-morrow, then, we'll spade it up," said Father. "And now we hadbetter be off to bed if we are going to do gardening in the morning."
Out on the upper porch stood the three beds in a row. Lydia, in her longnightgown, hopped about, so excited it was hard to think of going tosleep.
But Mother tucked her under the warm blankets, and soon thesleeping-porch was as quiet as the soft, dark night all about it.
But Lydia was not asleep. She lay watching the twinkling stars andwaving tree-tops, and suddenly the thought of Lucy Locket popped intoher head. Lydia remembered just where she had left her, lying on thetable in the hall below. Poor Lucy, missing her own white cradle, nodoubt, to say nothing of her little mother's care.
Softly Lydia crept out of bed and pattered across the sleeping-porch.She groped her way through the bedroom and started downstairs. And then,somehow, she tripped over her long nightgown, and down the stairs shecrashed head first.
It seemed as if Father reached the foot of the stairs almost as soon asLydia did. He picked her up carefully, and felt all over for brokenbones, and then he carried the sobbing Lydia upstairs, and tenderlyplaced her in Mother's arms.
"My head! My foot! Lucy Locket!" sobbed
Lydia.
There was a big lump on her head, and out came the bottle of witch hazelto be used with soothing effect. The bruised ankle was gently rubbedwith something that smelled like furniture polish.
And then Lydia was tucked in bed again, this time with Lucy Locketbeside her.
But instead of going to sleep, Lydia began to cry. She was tired, andexcited, and frightened by her fall. At first she cried so softly thatonly Lucy Locket knew it, but the sobs grew so loud that in a momentFather said, "Lydia, crying?"
A sniff was all Lydia's answer, but it said, "Yes, Father, I'm crying,"as plainly as could be.
Mr. Blake put out his strong right arm and pulled Lydia's little bedclose beside his own.
"What's the trouble, Lydia?" said he gently.
"I'm afraid," said Lydia, with another sniff. "I'm afraid a big fishwill come out of the river and get me." And she really thought that wasthe reason she was crying.
Mr. Blake hunted for Lydia's hand and found it.
"In the first place," said he, "there isn't any such fish. And in thesecond place, if he comes I won't let him hurt you. Now will you try togo to sleep?"
"Yes," said Lydia, "I will."
So holding fast to Father with one hand, and to Lucy Locket with theother, Lydia at last fell asleep.