Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
[Illustration: AUNT HATTIE'S LIBRARY]
Ida's New Shoes.
BY
_AUNT HATTIE_
_[MADELINE LESLIE]_
AUTHOR OF THE "BROOKSIDE SERIES," ETC.
_"He that ruleth his spirit, is better_
_than he that taketh a city."—SOLOMON_
BOSTON:
HENRY A. YOUNG & CO.
24 CORNHILL.
1870.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by
REV. A. R. BAKER,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of
Massachusetts.
To
NELLIE, ROLAND COTTON, ANNIE, AND FULLER APPLETON,
CHILDREN OF MY BELOVED NEPHEW,
THE REV. JOHN COTTON SMITH, D.D.,
THESE SMALL VOLUMES ARE AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED,
WITH THE EARNEST PRAYER
THAT THEIR LIVES MAY PROVE THEM TO BE LAMBS IN THE FOLD
OF THE GREAT AND GOOD
_Shepherd of Israel._
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. THE NEW SHOES
CHAPTER II. IDA'S SNARLED HAIR
CHAPTER III. THE ORANGES
CHAPTER IV. VISIT TO GRANDMA
CHAPTER V. THE DANDELIONS
CHAPTER VI. JOSEPH'S PASSION
CHAPTER VII. THE SICK BOY
CHAPTER VIII. THE COUSINS
IDA'S NEW SHOES.
CHAPTER I.
THE NEW SHOES.
"LOOK, aunty, see my pretty new shoes!"
Little Ida danced up and down, holding back the skirt of her dress to
display the present papa had brought her.
"Very pretty," said Aunt Mary. "I hope my little niece will never let
them carry her into mischief."
"No, indeed, aunty! I'm going to be a real good girl now. See how
softly I can step in them."
And she went on tiptoe to the door of the bedroom, where her mother was
confined with an attack of nervous headache.
Mrs. Kent's head was bandaged tightly with a wet towel, the room being
darkened, in the hope she would be able to drop to sleep.
But Ida did not think of this.
[Illustration: "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"]
She wanted her mamma to see how nicely her foot looked in the new boot.
She was so quick in her motions, that before Aunt Mary knew what she
was about, she had pushed a cricket to the side of the bed, and jumped
up, boots and all.
"O Ida! What are you doing?" exclaimed the lady, with a groan. "I was
just falling asleep. Jump right off the bed, dear; you jar my head
dreadfully."
"See my shoes, first, mamma! Berty tied 'em up for me."
"Ida Kent, come out of that room this minute!" said Aunt Mary. "Your ma
is very sick; and you'll make her worse with your noise."
"No, I won't! I'll make her better. I'm going to comb your hair, mamma.
You said I might."
Mrs. Kent groaned again. "Do take her away, Mary. I shall die with
this dreadful pain. If I could be quiet one hour, I think I should be
better."
Aunt Mary took Ida firmly by the hand.
"I won't go! I won't!" screamed the naughty child, at the top of her
voice, clinging at the same time to the bedpost.
"Go this minute, Ida," said her mother, holding her throbbing head
between her hands. "And Mary, take off those new shoes. She mustn't
wear them till she can behave better."
The naughty girl gave a scream of passion, and was carried out of the
room by Aunt Mary, who was obliged to hold her hands to keep her from
scratching anywhere she could reach.
Mamma tried to shut her ears, but no, she could hear the loud, angry
screams, until Aunt Mary closed the doors in a distant chamber.
Even then, her head throbbed painfully, as she readily imagined the
naughty conduct of her little girl.
"What shall I do with her?" she kept saying to herself. "How can I help
her conquer her hasty temper? So affectionate one moment, so passionate
the next."
Toward night, Mrs. Kent's pain was relieved. She was able to sit up in
bed and take a cup of gruel. Nothing could exceed Ida's fond attention.
She ran softly to the entry for a shawl, then upstairs for another
pillow, and afterwards sat in a chair, her curly head resting on the
bed, her forefinger in her mouth, looking as placid and happy as if no
cries of passion had ever distorted her features.
Mrs. Kent was greatly refreshed by the gruel. She sat up in bed long
enough for Aunt Mary to smooth her tangled hair, and then lay down,
saying—
"I feel as if I could sleep."
Presently she put her hand softly on Ida's cheek. "You're a good girl
now," she said. "You're mamma's comfort."
Ida caught her mother's hand and kissed it, then went to sucking her
finger again.
By and by papa came home, and rocked his little girl in his arms until
the tea-bell rang.
"The sky seems remarkably clear to-night," he said to his sister Mary,
after a glance at Ida.
"Yes," she said, smiling; "a storm generally clears the sky; and there
has been a terrible one to-day."
"Was that what made her mother's head ache so bad?"
"No, she had gone to bed before; but of course the scream's made it
worse."
"The thunder you mean. In what direction did the storm arise?"
"In the direction of the s-h-o-e-s." Aunt Mary spelled the word so that
Ida need not understand.
"To look at her now, one would think there never could be a storm."
The little girl sat in a high chair by the side of her father,
diligently engaged in eating her bread and milk.
"I know what kind of storms you mean," said Berty, laughing.
"Yes, I suppose so," answered his father. "You are quite a man, you
know."
"There were never such storms in his day," remarked Aunt Mary, glancing
kindly in the face of her favorite nephew.
"Please, aunty, give Ida some cake!" asked the little girl, holding out
her plate.
"Yes, dear;" and then added, "I wish her mother could see her now."
"We have a nice young lady at table this evening," remarked Mr. Kent.
"I would to have her come here to tea every night."
"I'm going to be good all the time now," said Ida, smiling in her
father's face.