CHAPTER X.
SURPRISES.
After a very happy day in the woods, the Cliffords started forhome with as many nuts as they could carry.
Dotty said she had had a nice time; but for some reason she could not goto sleep that night. There was a burning sensation in her right side,and she had a horrible fancy that a snake had bitten her. She could notendure the thought of lying and listening to the strokes of the clock.
"I'll go find my father," thought she, with that "far-off" feeling ather heart again.
But which way to go? She had not yet learned the plan of the house, buthad no doubt she could find her father's room. She pattered about thechambers with her little bare feet, and at last waked Horace byoverturning a chair near his bed.
"Why, who is there? And what's wanted?"
"It's me, and I want my father."
By this time Aunt Maria, hearing a noise, had come in with a light.
"Are you sick, dear child?"
"No, auntie; I don't know what's the matter; I 'spect it's the blues. Ihad 'em you know, when the beer came to an end--I mean the world--I meanthat night Polly Whiting called me up."
Horace used all his self-control to keep from laughing.
"Well, Cousin Dotty, you do look blue, I declare; as blue as theskimmiest milk of the cheatiest milkman. Mother, isn't theresomething in the medicine chest that is good for the blues?"
"They are in my side--I mean _it_," said Dotty, dismally. "I'm afraidit's a--snake?"
Mrs. Clifford took the afflicted child in her arms, and began toquestion her with regard to the exact spot where she felt the "blues,"assuring her that some relief might be afforded if the nature of thetrouble could only be discovered.
"O, ho," cried Horace, suddenly; "I know what it is; it's a jigger."
Upon reflection, it was decided that Horace might be right. A littlecreature called the _chegre_, had perhaps made its way out of somedecayed log and crept in under Dotty's skin, causing all this heat andirritation. There was a small, hard swelling on her side, which appearedto move. Her father asked her if she was willing to have him cut it outwith his penknife.
Dotty hesitated; her nerves quivered at sight of the sharp blade.
"But that cruel little _chegre_ is drinking your blood, my daughter. Themore he drinks, the larger he will grow, and the harder it will be tocut him out."
"That's so," said Horace. "I could preach, with jigger for a text. Ahem!He is like sin--the more you let him stay, the more you'll wish youhadn't. Come, Dotty, be brave, and out with him!"
"You can talk to _me_," said Dotty, bitterly; "but if it was _your_ sidethat had a _jiggle_ in, perhaps you'd feel as bad's I do."
Horace was prepared for this.
"But I've had them cut out twice, miss. Being a boy, I could bear it!"
This settled the question.
"Girls are just as brave as boys," said Dotty; and submitted to theknife without a murmur.
The next day she was regarded as something of an invalid. She had lostso much sleep that she did not rise until her father was far away on hisjourney. Aunt Maria gave her a late breakfast, which was also to servefor an early dinner. It was an oyster-stew; and Dotty enjoyed eating itin Mrs. Clifford's room on the lounge. Katie sat beside her, watchingevery mouthful, and begging for it the moment it entered the spoon.
"Don't tease so," said Dotty; "your poor cousin is sick; you don't wantto take away her soup?"
"Yes, I does," replied Katie, coolly; "I likes it myself," opening hermouth for more.
Dotty gave her an oyster. The next moment something grated againstKatie's teeth, and she picked out the hard substance with her fingers.Mrs. Clifford happened to see it.
"That is a pearl," said she.
"A pearl, auntie? Why, isn't that something precious? Mamma has pearlsin a ring."
"I will show it to your uncle," replied Mrs. Clifford, turning it overin her hand; "but I think it is a true pearl, only a little discoloredby the heat it has undergone in being cooked."
"O, I'll have a ring made of it! What funny oysters you do have outWest!"
"The pyurl is mine," said Katie; "I finded it in my toof."
"No, it's mine, darling, for 'twas in my stew."
"Well, tenny rate, I want um," said Katie, dancing around the sofa,"_if_ you pees um."
"O, no; little bits of girlies don't need it--do they, auntie?"
"I hope," said Mrs. Clifford, smiling, "it will not cost either of youany of those 'falling pearls which men call tears.' It isn't worthcrying about."
Katie was easily persuaded to give it up.
"You may keep um if you'll let me have two poun's of gold; _two_ poun'sto make me a ying."
Dotty could not promise the gold; but said Katie should have the nextpickled lime she bought with her money; and this answered quite as well.
Just as Dotty was going to her room to put away the choice pearl in abox which stood in her trunk, there was a loud noise. Phebe, coming upstairs with a pail of water in each hand, had stumbled and fallen. Thewater was pouring down in a cataract, and after it rattled the pailsMrs. Clifford ran to the rescue. Phebe was looking aghast, making a wildgesture with one hand, and rubbing her nose with the other.
"You didn't fall on your _nose_, Phebe?"
"Yes, ma'am," sobbed the poor girl; "and I believe it's broke; I heardit crack!"
Mrs. Clifford might have upbraided Phebe for carrying two buckets upstairs at once, contrary to orders; but she did nothing of the sort; shekindly sent for the surgeon, who set the two fragments of nose togetheras well as he could.
"Never mind it, child," remarked he, facetiously, to the disconsolatePhebe; "you have only been beautifying your countenance. Hereafter youwill not be taken for one of the flat-nosed race."
The young African saw no amusement in the joke, and left the room withher handkerchief at her eyes.
"Doctor," said Mrs. Clifford, "how could you speak so to that poorchild? She has just as much regard for her personal appearance as youand I have for ours. You never use such language to one of my family;and please remember I would not have the feelings of my servantsunnecessarily wounded any sooner than those of my children."
"I stand rebuked, my dear madam," replied the family physician,respectfully.
"I wish there were more such women as Mrs. Clifford," mused he, as hedrove home; "she lives up to the Golden Rule; and if there's any betterprescription than the Golden Rule for making a lady, I haven't seen ityet; that's all."
It was one of those days when strange things seem ready to happen, oneafter another. Dotty, whose little head was rather unsettled by seeingand hearing so many new things, had an impression that such events asthese were always occurring out West, and that they would never havehappened anywhere else.
_Chegres_ in logs, pearls in oysters; and now somebody had fallen upstairs and broken her nose. In Maine who ever heard the like?
Dotty twirled her hair, in a state of wonder as to what would come next.It came before bedtime.
She and Grace had been marching about the dining-room, singing martialsongs. They went into the darkened parlor, still promenading, Grace'sarm about her little cousin's waist.
Suddenly Grace stopped, and whispered,--
"What's that?"
Dotty listened. It was a groan. It must proceed from a human throat; butthere was no one in the room but their two selves.
"I think there is _something_ in the hall," whispered Grace; "I must gotell papa."
Mr. Clifford immediately took a lamp, and went to investigate themystery. Dotty insisted upon going too, though she hardly knew why,except that the prospect of some unknown horror fascinated her. Sheclung to the skirt of her uncle's coat, though he would have preferrednot to be hindered. No one else, not even Horace, cared to follow.
As they entered the parlor there was the same sound from the hall, evenmore unearthly than ever. Dotty had entire faith in her uncle, and wasnot at all alarmed till they passed through the parlor doorw
ay, and shesaw the finger-prints of blood on the panels. Then she did tremble, andshe had half a mind to draw back; but curiosity was stronger than fear.
What _could_ it be that walked into people's houses _Out West_, andgroaned so in their front halls? She must see the whole thing forherself, and be prepared to describe it to Prudy.
She soon knew what it meant. There was a poor intoxicated man lying onthe mat. Seeing the door open, he had staggered in while the family wereat tea. In some way he had hurt his hand, and stained the door withblood. So there was nothing at all mysterious or supernatural in theaffair, when it was once explained.
The poor creature was too helpless to be sent into the street; and Mr.Clifford and Katinka carried him into the stable, and laid him upon abed of sweet hay.
"I'm glad not to be a Hoojer," said Dotty, with a severe look at herCousin Horace. "You don't ever see such bad men in the State of Maine.The whiskey is locked up; and I don't know as there _is_ any whiskey."
"Down East is a great place, Dotty! Don't I wish I was a Yankee--I meana 'Publican?"
"But you can't be, Horace," returned little Dotty, looking up at himwith deep pity in her bright eyes; "you weren't born there. You're aHoojer, and you'll have to _stay_ a Hoojer."