HOW LILY GOT THE CAT.
When the twins were about as big as last year's chickens, they had themeasles.
It was in the month of May, and there was a great deal to be done justthen.
There was Celestia's flower-bed to dig into; there were Mary's chickensto kiss to death, and Aunt Ann's bowls of starch and gravy to upset.And in the shop there was the cinnamon-jar to be filled up with Scotchsnuff, and the cream of tartar to mix with the soda, and the molassesto be set running.
Besides these, there were a great many dry wells to be dug in the yard,and brick-paint to be pounded, and the gate to be pulled off itshinges, and as many more pieces of mischief as there were minutes in aday.
It was Davie who had all these things to do, though. Lily, sweetlittle blossom, only followed around after him and said "Yes."
But as for Davie, he would willingly have done everybody's work allover the city, from the President of the University, wearing hisfour-cornered hat on Commencement Day, down to the charcoal man whowent by a great many times a day making the prettiest noise you everheard, and looking as though he were having the best time in the world,with nobody to worry him about washing his face or keeping his clothesclean.
But the mischief had to wait now; for the twins were lying in thecradle all day long, with their faces as red as poppies, and their poorlittle eyes shut up and swollen.
"It is as good as a poor play to see how beautifully the measles havecome out. Davie and Lily will get along all right now, as sure as A isapple-dumpling, only we must see to it that they don't take any cold,"said Aunt Ann, giving them a good drink of thoroughwort, and thenhurrying off to attend to the duties of the shop, with her glasses inher hand and a pair of scissors dangling at her side by a long greenbraid.
It didn't seem much like a poor play, or any kind of a play, though tothe twins to lie there in a bed of nettles with their eyes full of hotcotton and their throats full of pepper, and the air full of peoplemaking up dreadful faces at them, all with sore eyes and horrid rednoses.
So there they lay in the cradle while a blue-bottle-fly buzzed shrillyfrom a dark corner where a fat gray spider had tied him up by his feetand was sharpening her bill ready to make chops of him.
The milkman whopped at the back gate; the cracked school-bell aroundthe corner rang out long and loud; somewhere a carpenter was poundingstroke upon stroke; and, as a background, beneath all came up the heavygrinding roll of wheels and the clashing beat of hoofs upon the roughpavement.
The tall brass clock ticked and ticked and held up its hands in solemnsurprise at finding it was only ten o'clock after all. Why! it seemedalready as long as a whole day since the bell on the First Baptistchurch had struck nine.
Then Lily began to cry with a gentle little noise, about as though ahumming-bird was fluttering his wings against the cup of atrumpet-flower.
"What is the matter, Lily?" asked Davie, feebly. "What you crying for?"
What was the _matter_? What _wasn't_ the matter, one would think!
But Lily only whimpered, "I want the cat."
"I'll get her for you, Lily," said Davie, trying to fumble his blindway out of the cradle and start in search of her.
Fortunately for the ending of the story, somebody was in the room andwas ready to pick Davie up when his weak little legs suddenly doubledup like a pocket-knife and dropped him on the nursery floor. So,though Lily did not get the cat, neither did Davie get, what Aunt Anncalled "his death o' cold."
In due time, the measles turned and went their way wandering off aroundafter other children, one generation and then another. Lily's catlived out her nine lives and then turned into sage and catnip in theback garden.
And now, after a long, long while, Davie and Lily have a birthday. Notthe next one, nor the second, nor the third, nor, if the truth must betold, the fiftieth. But a birthday that came running to meet them withglasses on and a flourishing of the almond-tree.
This time the twins' birthday is not kept in the gray old mansion, withthe shop below and the garden behind, where Aunt Ann rattled her keysand lived out her bustling life. Nor does Aunt Ann come to help keepit. Her hands have long been folded in quiet rest; and it is years,too, since Mary and Celestia went where the shining is brighter thanthe sunlight and softer than the moon.
But the twins are not alone. Bless you! I should think not! First,here is Amy Starbird, with a pair of pictures she has painted from thevery paint-box Davie gave her on her own last birthday. And here isAmy's daughter Rose, with twin marble babies tucked up in a marble cribon top of a marble match box; and Rose, all this time, is Davie'sdaughter as well as Amy's.
And here is a bright bevy of boys and girls, some of them with Lily'sblue eyes and Lily's fair hair, each bringing some double gift fortheir mother and Uncle Davie.
There are pairs of wristings and pairs of neckties, books in twovolumes, and double-frosted cakes; there is a pair of china slipperswith a pair of babies on the toes; there is a crystal vase held up bytwo crystal swans, and a vase of silver in the form of a chariot drawnby two doves; for everything must be in pairs for the birthday of thetwins.
Then, last of all, Davie gave to Lily a covered box, and when sheopened it she saw within an exquisitely embroidered velvet pen-wiper,with a beautiful tortoise-shell cat lying upon it, and, playfullyjumping over her back, were two of the most charming tortoise-shellkittens ever seen.
The mother-cat had around her neck a blue ribbon, and on the ribbon waswritten these words,--
"Here is your cat, Lily,--after fifty years."
FRANCES LEE.
decoration]
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