A VERY SICK DOLL
"Madam," declared Brother seriously, "your child is very ill, I fear!"
He was the "doctor" and had been called to attend Muriel Elsie,
Sister's best and largest doll. The children had started this new game
one day.
"Oh, Doctor!" fluttered Sister, much worried. "Can't you give her
something?"
The doctor sat down on the window-seat and considered.
"You ate all the peppermints up," he told Muriel Elsie's "mother." Then
he went on: "And Louise hid the box of chocolates. No, I don't believe
I can give her any medicines."
"Yes, you can," urged the little mother, hurriedly. "Go to the drug
store; that's where Doctor Yarrow gets all his pills and things."
"Where--where is the drugstore?" stammered the doctor.
He was used to having Sister tell him. She usually planned their games.
"Why, it's--it's--" Sister looked about her desperately. Where should
she say the drugstore was? "I know," she cried. "Over to
Grandma's--hurry!"
Grandmother Hastings glanced up from her sewing in surprise as Brother
and Sister tumbled up the steps of the side porch where she sat.
"Oh, Grandma!" and Sister fell over the Boston fern in her eagerness to
explain the play. "Grandma, Muriel Elsie is ever so sick, and Roddy is
the doctor; and we have to go to the drugstore to get medicine for her.
Have you any? You have, haven't you, Grandma?"
"Dear me," said Grandmother Hastings, adjusting her glasses. "Muriel
Elsie is very ill, is she? Well, now, what kind of medicine do you
think she needs?"
"Muriel Elsie likes medicine that tastes good," explained Sister.
"Well, I must put on my thinking-cap," said dear Grandmother Hastings.
"I didn't know I was keeping a 'drug store' till this minute, you see."
The children were as quiet as two little mice, so that Grandmother
might think better.
"I know!" she cried in a moment. "I think I have the very thing! Come
on out in the kitchen with me."
They pattered after her and watched while she lifted down a large
pasteboard box from a cupboard. From this box she took several tiny
round boxes, such as druggists use for pills.
"I think Muriel Elsie needs two kinds of medicine," said Grandmother
gravely. "Now if you want to watch me put it up, there's nothing to
hinder you."
Grandmother Hastings could play "pretend" beautifully, as Brother and
Sister often said. Now she opened her shining white bread box and took
out a loaf of white bread and one of brown. She washed her hands
carefully at the sink, tied on a big white apron and brought the sugar
and cinnamon from the pantry.
"Oh, Grandma!" squeaked Brother in joyful excitement. "What are you
going to do?"
"Why, get some medicine ready for Muriel Elsie," answered his
grandmother, making believe to be surprised. "Didn't you want me to?"
"Of course--don't mind him, Grandma," said Sister scornfully. "I'd like
to keep a drug store when I grow up."
Grandmother cut a slice of bread from the white loaf and buttered it
lightly. Then she sprinkled it with cinnamon and sugar, broke off a
little piece and rolled that into several tiny round balls. They looked
for all the world like real pills.
Then she cut a slice of brown bread and rolled that into little pills,
too. She filled four of the small boxes.
"There!" she said, giving the boxes to Brother. "See that your patient
takes a white pill and a brown one every two minutes and she will soon
be well."
"Thank you very much, Grandma," said Brother, standing up to go. "Don't
you want us to eat the trimmings?"
Grandmother laughed and said yes, they might eat the crusts, and she
gave them each a slice of the brown bread spread with nice, sweet
butter, too.
Brother and Sister hurried home and on the way over they changed to the
Doctor and Muriel Elsie's worried mamma. They had been so interested in
watching Grandmother Hastings make the pills that they had almost
forgotten that they were playing.
They had left the patient in the porch swing--Sister said it was
important to keep her in the fresh air--but when they went to take her
up and give her a pill, she wasn't to be found.
"Perhaps Louise did something to her," decided Sister.
But Louise, questioned, declared she had not seen the doll.
"Is it Muriel Elsie you're looking for?" asked Molly, her head tied up
in a sweep cap and a broom on her shoulder as she prepared to sweep the
upstairs hall. "Why, I found her half an hour ago on the porch floor,
her face all cracked into little chips."
"Muriel Elsie all chipped?" repeated Sister in wonder. "Why, she's my
very best doll!"
"'Twas that imp of a Brownie did it," related Molly. "I was coming out
to sweep the porch off, and he raced on ahead and went to jerking the
cushions out of the hammock. First thing I knew there was a crash, and
the doll was smashed on the floor. I saved you the pieces, Sister."
Brownie had a trick, the children knew, of snatching the sofa and swing
cushions and flinging them on the floor whenever he thought anyone was
ready to sleep. They had always considered this rather a clever trick
for a little dog, and Sister could not find it in her heart to scold
him even now.
"I suppose he didn't know Muriel Elsie was there," she said
sorrowfully. "I had a cushion over her so she couldn't take cold. Where
did you put her, Molly?"
Molly brought out the box with the unfortunate Muriel Elsie in it. Only
her pretty face was damaged and that was badly chipped. Besides her
whole head wobbled on her body.
Sister began to cry.
"Maybe Ralph can mend her," she sobbed. "My poor little Muriel Elsie!
And we were playing she was sick, too."
"Yes, I guess Ralph can mend her," said Brother bravely. "He can mend
lots of things. And you have all the pieces."
Sister took the box under her arm and went down to the gate to wait for
Ralph, who was expected home on an early train.
"Well, I s'pose we might as well eat the pills," suggested Brother.
"Muriel Elsie's certainly too sick for pills--she needs--operating on!"
So they ate the pills while they were waiting for Ralph, and they gave
Brownie some, too. As Sister said he didn't mean to break the doll and
he probably felt the way she did when she found she had knocked over
Jimmie's case of butterflies.