CHAPTER IX.
"WAXERATION."
Still, in spite of cheeses, beehives, bossies, and kittens, I had manylonesome hours, and sometimes cried after I went to bed. Samantha musthave known it, for I slept with her; I was afraid to sleep alone.
There were times when I thought I would start off secretly, and gohome on foot. I asked the hired man how long he supposed it would takea little girl to walk to Willowbrook, and what were the chances of hergetting lost if she should try it? I thought I spoke in such a guardedway that Seth would not have the least idea what I meant; but he musthave been very quick-witted, for he understood in a minute. He didnot let me know it, though, and only answered coolly,--
"Wal, I should think now it would take her about a week's steadytravel, and no knowing but she'd starve to death on the road. Why,_you_ hain't heerd of a little gal that thinks of such a thing, Ihope?"
"No; I don't see many little girls," said I, with a dismal sigh; "theydon't have anything here but bossies and horses."
I did not know, till Seth nipped it in the bud, what a sweet hope Ihad been cherishing. Should I truly starve to death if I took mylittle cheese in a basket on my arm, and some doughnuts andturn-overs? But no, it would be stealing to take things out of cousinLydia's cupboard, and run off with them. I would rather stay atBloomingdale and suffer, than be a thief.
I know now that Seth told cousin Lydia what I said to him, and herkind heart was touched. I am sure she must have had a hard time withme, for she knew nothing about children, and was as busy as she couldbe with her dairy and her "fall work." I ought not to have been sounhappy. Some children at that age, with so much done for theiramusement, would have felt perfectly contented; but I had naturally arestless disposition, and wanted, as Ned said, "sumpin diffunt."
Ah, Horace! very gallant in you to say I have "got bravely over it."Thank you, dear; I hope I have, to some degree; still I might have gotover it much younger if I had only tried a little harder. A child ofseven is old enough to be grateful to its friends, when they do allthey can for its comfort and pleasure.
Cousin Lydia wrote mother about my state of mind; and it troubled her.She talked with Madam Allen, who was always full of plans. Madamthought a minute, and then said,--
"Poor Marjie, we can't have her homesick. Do you suppose she wouldlike to have Ruphelle go there and stay with her?"
Of course mother knew I would be happy with Ruphelle.
Then Madam Allen wished mother would please write cousin Lydia, andask if Fel might go to Bloomingdale a few weeks. She hoped themountain air would be strengthening to the dear little girl, whoseemed rather drooping.
Cousin Lydia was willing; and Madam Allen sent Ruphelle by cars,with a gentleman and lady who were going to Boston. Not a word wassaid to me; and when Seth harnessed the horse and went to the stationto meet her, I supposed he was only "going to see his mother;" forthat was what he always said when I asked any questions. It was aboutthree miles to the flag station, and I believe his mother livedsomewhere on the way.
I was not watching for him to come back, or thinking anything abouthim, when I happened to look out of the window and see him helping alittle girl out of the wagon. The red and white plaid looked exactlylike Fel's dress; and as the little girl turned around, there were thesoft, brown eyes, and the dark, wavy hair, and the lovely pale face ofFel Allen herself!
I never expect to be much happier till I get to heaven than I wasfor the next hour or two. I danced and screamed, and laughed andcried, and wondered how Fel could keep so calm, when we hadn't seeneach other for as much as three weeks.
"I don't see what's the matter with me," sobbed I; "I never was soglad in my life; but I can't help a-crying!"
Fel was not one of the kind to go wild. She usually knew what she wasabout. Supper was ready, and she sat at the table, and ate honey onher bread and butter, as if she really enjoyed it; also answered everyone of cousin Lydia's many questions like a little lady.
I had no appetite, and could hardly have told what my name was if anyone had asked me.
But from that time my homesickness was gone. I took my little friendall about the farm, which was a very nice place, only I had neverthought of it before, and showed her the speckled bossy, which seemedto have grown handsomer all in one night.
"Here are some black currants, Fel; do you like 'em?"
"O, yes."
"Why, I don't; I just despise 'em."
"Well, I don't like 'em _very_ well," said Fel; for after our longseparation she could not bear to disagree with me in anything.
"Cousin Lydia," said I, very soon after Fel came, "may we tell scarestories after we go to bed? She wants us to."
Cousin Lydia did not know what I meant by "scare stories."
"It's all the awful things we can think of," said I, eagerly. "And welike to, for we want to see 'f our hair 'll stand out straight."
Cousin Lydia laughed, and said "children were perfect curiosities."
"It makes us shiver all over. It's splendid," said I.
"Well, you may try it this once," said cousin Lydia, "if you'll stoptalking the moment I tap on the wall."
So, as soon as we got into bed we began. "You tell first," saidRuphelle; "you can tell the orfulest, and then I'll tell."
"Mine'll be about the Big Giant," said I, clearing my throat.
_The Big Giant._
"Once upon a time he had three heads, and he roared so you could hearhim a mile."
"That isn't anything," said Fel; "my hair don't stand out a bit."
"Why, I hadn't but just begun. You wait and see what comes next. DidI say the Big Giant had three heads? He had sixteen. And every one of'em had three mouths, and some had ten; and they made a noise when hechewed grass like----like thunder."
"It don't scare me a bit," said Fel, stoutly.
"Did I say the Big Giant ate grass? He ate _fire_; he ate live coals,the _liver_ the better."
"I should have thought 'twould have burnt him all up," said Fel.
"There, miss, you needn't pretend not to be scared! I'm so scaredmyself I can't but just tell!--No, it didn't burn him up; it came outat his great big nose. And when the Big Giant walked along the streetsfolks ran away, for he blazed so. And there wasn't enough water inWillowbrook to put him out!"
"He didn't live at Willowbrook?"
"O, yes, right between your house and my house; _and lives therenow_!"
By that time Fel began to tremble and creep closer to me.
"Tell some more," said she, laughing. "It don't scare me a bit."
And I told, and I told. There was no end to the horrible things thatBig Giant had done, was doing, or was going to do.
"Does your hair stand up, Fel?"
"No; feel and see if it does. But there's a creepy feeling goes overme; don't it over you?"
"Yes," said I, highly excited. "Got your eyes shut, Fel?"
"Yes, shut up tight."
"Open 'em," said I, solemnly; "for how do you know but that BigGiant's got into this room? Can't you _see_ the fire coming out of hisnose?"
Fell couldn't, exactly.
"Get out," said I, "and get the wash-bowl and pitcher, and let's throwit at him kersplash."
"I dassent," said Fel, faintly.
"Nor I dassent neither."
By that time I was out of bed, much more frightened than Fel was, andcalling "Cousin Lydia," as loud as I could shout. She came in in greatsurprise, and it was some time before she could succeed in calming us.I remember how heartily she laughed, and how my teeth chattered. Iactually had to be wrapped in a blanket and dosed with ginger tea. Iwonder how many times cousin Lydia said,--
"Well, children ARE perfect curiosities."
* * * * *
We could not think of such a thing as spending the night alone afterall this, and Samantha was obliged to get into our bed and sleep inthe middle. Cousin Lydia said we made too much hard work for thefamily by telling "scare stories," and we must not do it again wh
ilewe staid at her house.
"I have just found out, Marjie, why it is that you are afraid to sleepalone," said she; "it is because you allow yourself to think aboutsuch frightful things. Is it not so?"
"Yes'm," said I, quivering in the blanket.
"Well, child, you must stop it at once; it is a very foolish habit,and may grow upon you. Never think of dreadful things. Say your littleprayer, asking God to take care of you, and then lie down in peace,for he will certainly do it. Ruphelle, are you ever afraid?"
"No'm, only when I'm with Marjie; but I like to hear her tellthings; I ask her to."
Fel often said she had beautiful thoughts about angels after she wentto bed, and dreamed that they came and stood by her pillow.
Ah, that was no common child; she lived very near the gates of heaven.Strange I could have associated with her so much, and still have beenso full of wrong desires and naughty actions!
Julia Tenney, who was not very fond of children, certainly not ofme, took a decided fancy to Fel the moment she saw her. I soon foundthis out, for she did not try to conceal it, and said more than oncethat "that child was too good for this world." I thought everybodyliked her better than me, from Miss Julia down to the cat. I did notconsider this at all strange; only I longed to do something to showmyself worthy of praise, as well as she.
There was a panic at that time about small-pox, and the doctor cameone day to vaccinate everybody in the house. We children looked onwith great interest to see the lancet make a scratch in cousin Lydia'sarm, and then in Miss Samantha's, and Miss Julia's.
"Now for the little folks," said the doctor, and drew Fel along tohim; but she broke away in great alarm, and began to cry. "Well,well," said the doctor, turning to me, "here's a little lady that willcome right up, I know she will; _she_ won't mind such a thing as aprick of a needle."
No, I really didn't mind it; why should I, when I had been gashedand slashed all my life? So I walked up very quickly to show mycourage. I guessed they wouldn't laugh about my Big Giant now! Irolled back my sleeve with an air of triumph, and looked down on Fel,who shrank into a corner. Everybody was surprised, and said, "Welldone!" and hoped I wasn't _all_ the brave child there was in thehouse.
I walked on thrones, I assure you; for there was Fel crying, andbegging to wait till after dinner. Why, she hadn't any more couragethan a chicken. I was ashamed of her. The doctor said he would waittill after dinner if she would surely have it done then.
"O, you little scare-girl!" said I, as he walked out to talk withcousin Joseph, and we two children were left alone in the room.
The doctor had laid his lancet and the little quill of vaccinematter on the table, having no thought, I suppose, that such smallchildren as we would dare touch them.
"I can waxerate as well as he can," said I, taking up the lancet, "forI watched him. Push up your sleeve, Fel, and I'll waxerate you, andthen when the doctor does it, you'll get used to it, you know."
"Don't you, _don't_ you touch that sharp thing, Madge Parlin."
"Poh! do you think I'm a little scare-girl like you?" returned I,proudly, for my little head was quite turned with flattery. "He didn'tsay folks musn't touch it, did he, Miss Fel? It's just like a needle;and who's afraid of a needle but you? I'll waxerate _me_, if _you_don't dast. Just you look! When I've done it three times to me, willyou let me do it to you?"
Fel wouldn't promise, but I went boldly to work. Let me count thescars--yes, twenty scratches I made above my elbow, never forgettingthe vaccine, saying, as I stopped to take breath,--
"Ready now, Fel?"
She never was ready, but she stood looking on with such meekness andawe, that I was just as well satisfied. After the doctor was gone, andshe was in cousin Lydia's lap, quite overcome by the fright of"waxeration," I told what I had done, expecting to be praised.
"Why, Maggie!" said cousin Lydia, really shocked, "what will you donext? It was very, very wrong for you to meddle with the doctor'slancet."
"Ah, well," said Miss Julia, "I guess she'll be a sick enough childwhen it 'takes.'"
I did not understand that, but I saw I had sunk again ineverybody's esteem. And that very afternoon Miss Julia allowed Fel,who had been such a coward, to dress up in her bracelets, rings, pin,and even her gold watch, only "she must be sure and not let Maggietouch them."
Of course I see now what a heedless child I was, and don't wonderMiss Julia wished to preserve her ornaments from my fingers; still sheought not to have given them to Fel before my very eyes. I thought itwas hard, after scratching myself so unmercifully, not to have eitherglory or kisses, or even a bosom-pin to wear half an hour. My armsmarted, and I felt cross. As Miss Julia went out of the room shepatted Fel's head, but took no notice of me, and cousin Lydia did thevery same thing two minutes afterwards. It was more than I couldbear.
"Ho, little _borrow-girl_," said I to Fel, "got a gold watch, too!'Fore I'd wear other folks's things! I don't wear a single one thingon me but b'longs to me; you may count 'em and see!"
It seemed as if I could not let her alone; but such was the sweetnessof nature in that dear little girl that she loved me througheverything.
"I thought you wanted to go out doors and play with me," said I; "andif you do, you'd better take off your borrowed watch!"
Fel did not answer, but tucked the watch into her bosom; and we wentout in no very pleasant mood.
CHAPTER X.
"THE CHILD'S ALIVE."[*]
(* The following is a true incident.)