WHAT WON A BICYCLE.
Despite bruises and sprains, skinned ankles and scraped knees, Persis
overcame the difficulties of riding a bicycle in a comparatively short
space of time, and really met with fewer mishaps than usually fall to
the lot of the learner. This was largely due to the efforts of Porter
and Basil, who were indefatigable teachers, and as Persis had no fear,
and was a persistent young woman, it was not long before she could be
seen skimming up and down the block with all the confidence in the
world.
“Look here,” said Porter, “I don’t see why you don’t coax your father
to give you a bicycle. I shouldn’t mind what your grandmother thinks.
The idea of it! Old people like her are always fussing about new
fashions.”
Persis opened her eyes. “Why! but I couldn’t enjoy having one if
grandma felt bad about it. She has always been so good to us. She is
the dearest grandma in the world.”
“Well, I shouldn’t let anybody’s old out-of-date notions keep me from
having a good time,” was Porter’s reply, as he walked away.
Persis stood looking after him with a dawning sense of his being rather
a selfish nature. “I suppose he’d be furious if he knew what I thought
of him,” she reflected. “I’ll let him know some day,” she inwardly
continued, her wrath rising.
A tapping on the window called her into the house. It was Lisa who
summoned.
“Mamma wants you, Persis,” she said. “We are going to have a small
family conclave.” And Lisa’s eyes danced.
“What is it now? This family has a way of springing surprises on a body
which is confusing, to say the least,” returned Persis, as she took her
way down-stairs.
She and Lisa had long ago “made up.” Indeed, their little squabbles
were of almost daily occurrence and did not prevent them from being
really devoted to each other. Persis was the more generous of the two,
although possessed of more real strength of character. Lisa yielded her
opinions easily; her pleasures she grasped more closely. With Persis
it was directly the opposite, she could give up a prospective treat,
but her convictions were her own, and these she could not forego,
unless convinced, under pressure, of their error, and even then it was
difficult for her to confess it, although tacitly she generally did so.
“Now, mamma, what is it this time?” inquired Persis, as she dropped on
a hassock near the window.
“It is just this. Papa must be in Washington for a few days on
business, and wants me to go with him. He is also willing to take one
of you girls, and the question is, Which shall it be?”
“‘Which shall it be? Which shall it be?
I looked at John, John looked at me,’”
quoted Persis. “Oh, mamma, that is a terrible strain upon
unselfishness.” And she looked from one sister to the other.
“I’ve never been to Washington,” began Mellicent, “and I believe it
would do me the most good.”
“I am the eldest, and I think it is my place,” came from Lisa.
“And I. I have a friend there. You know Patty Peters is there this
winter, mamma.” And Persis turned an eager face to her mother.
“Such reasonable claims,” laughed Mrs. Holmes. “I am afraid you must
draw lots for it.”
“So we will. That will be the fairest way,” maintained Mellicent.
“Now, mamma, we won’t even tell you which we decide it is to be, the
longest or the shortest, so you cannot exert an undue influence,” Lisa
said.
Therefore, after a short conference in the corner, the girls gathered
around to scan the slips of paper which Mrs. Holmes held in her hand.
“Lisa first, then Perse, then I, according to our ages,” decided
Mellicent, and with breathless interest the lots were drawn.
“The longest! The longest, we decided. Who has it?” exclaimed Lisa,
holding up her slip.
“I! I! It is mine,” Persis announced, joyfully. “Now I can go to see
Patty Peters.” And she executed a wild dance about the room.
“Patty Peters!” Lisa repeated, disdainfully. “It always sounds so
ridiculous, as if you were trying to say Peter Piper.”
The joy faded out of Persis’s face, and she stood curling the slip of
paper around her finger, looking from Lisa to her mother. It may have
been fancy, for Persis was keenly sensitive, but she thought she saw a
shade of regret on her mother’s face. “Of course mamma would most enjoy
having Lisa,” she said to herself. “She is so handsome, and mamma could
show her off so finely to her Washington friends.” Persis swallowed a
lump in her throat, then went over to Lisa and said, with eyes shining,
“I’ll change with you.”
“Oh, Perse, you don’t mean it; you’re joking!” responded Lisa.
Persis shook her head. “No. I happen to remember that you have a new
coat this winter, and the most becoming hat you ever wore, so it seems
a wicked waste of material for you not to go. So I’ll stay at home and
ride the boys’ bikes.”
“I believe you’d rather do it,” returned Lisa, to ease her conscience.
“I think I ought not to consent to the exchange,” began Mrs. Holmes;
but Persis was firm, and, having her determination fixed, almost
persuaded herself that the staying at home was the more desirable.
Mellicent felt herself out of the question, and went to grandma for
sympathy, while one appreciative look from her father made Persis very
happy over her sacrifice.
It was, therefore, in high spirits that the party took leave.
“Everything will go on much better than if I had been left at home,”
said Lisa, graciously. “You are such a fine manager, Perse, and I do
hate marketing. Good-bye. I’ll write as soon as I get there.” And with
a nod and a smile Lisa disappeared from view.
Matters went on smoothly for the first day or two. Persis was too busy
with her lessons and her housewifely duties to think of much else. The
housemaid had been with the family for several years and understood
the routine of work, while the girls could not remember the time when
old black Prue had not presided over the kitchen. Besides, there was
grandma to decide upon important matters; so the responsibility upon
Persis’s shoulders was not very heavy.
The boys had been the chief source of anxiety; but they had proved
themselves to be comparatively obedient, and, having been put upon
their honor, were disposed to conduct themselves becomingly, especially
as Mr. Holmes had told them they were expected to be the protectors of
the household.
Therefore the absence of three important members of the family did not
make such a material difference in the daily life as might be supposed,
and everything went along smoothly for several days. But one afternoon
when Prue was out, Lyddy the housemaid gone on an errand, and the boys
were off at the base-ball grounds something occurred to ruffle the
serene flow of events.
“Now we have the place all to ourselves, let’s make some gingerbread,
Mell,” suggested Persis. “We’ll begin it before Lyddy comes back, and
it will be done before dark. We’ll give grandma a surprise; she does
enjoy warm gingerbread. Come on and let’s see if there is a good fire.”
Mellicent heartily complied, and the two girls went down into the neat,
quiet kitchen to begin operations. The fire was in rather a dubious
state for baking, it was discovered. “We’ll get a little wood and start
it up,” said Persis. “Suppose you go after the wood, Mellicent, while I
get the other things together.” And Mellicent started for the cellar,
while Persis went to the pantry. The latter was energetically sifting
flour, when a clattering sound, a heavy fall, and a pitiful cry reached
her ears.
Running to the head of the stairs leading to the cellar, she peered
down into the dimness, calling, “Mell, Mellicent, where are you?” A
moan was the only reply. “Oh, Mell!” reiterated Persis in alarm, as she
hastily took her way down the steep steps. “What is the matter?”
At the foot of the steps Mellicent lay in a confused heap. “Oh, you
dear child! Oh, Melly! Are you hurt?” And Persis tried to lift her
sister.
“I feel queer,” replied Mellicent. “I believe I have done something to
my arm, I can’t raise it.”
Persis helped the little girl to her feet, and then, half carrying her,
she managed to get her up the stairway. Mellicent’s white face showed
that something serious had really happened.
“Tell grandma,” she said, and then she fainted.
Afraid to leave her, and yet hardly knowing what to do, Persis ran to
the foot of the stairs and called, loudly, “Grandma! Grandma! come
quick!”
To see the baby of the family lying on the kitchen floor, with closed
eyes and looking so pale, terrified Mrs. Estabrook, and she cried,
“Oh, my child! what is it? Run for the doctor.” And Persis flew out,
forgetting that she still wore her floury apron.
The doctor who lived a block away was not at home, and back again ran
Persis, out of breath.
By this time Mellicent’s consciousness was restored, and she was
sitting in her grandmother’s lap. “I am afraid she has broken her arm,”
announced Mrs. Estabrook, in distress. “The doctor ought to see her at
once.”
“Dr. Wheeler isn’t at home,” informed Persis, distressedly. “Oh, dear!
what shall we do?”
“We must have some doctor right away,” declared Mrs. Estabrook, and
Persis darted out again. She could not think for a moment where she
would find another physician, but she did remember that their family
doctor lived about ten blocks off. It seemed a long way in her present
state of perturbation. She could walk there as quickly as she could go
by a roundabout car-route, she reflected. But here her eye caught sight
of Porter’s bicycle leaning against the side of the porch. In another
moment she had mounted and was flying like the wind along the street,
being back again in less time than she could have dreamed, breathless
from her effort. “The doctor will be here right off,” she made haste
to notify. “I went to Dr. Armstrong’s.”
Mrs. Estabrook looked amazed. “In this time?” she said.
“Oh, grandma! I didn’t know any other way, and I went on Porter’s
wheel.”
Grandma’s only reply was, “I am thankful that you found him so quickly.
We cannot tell what injury our little girl may have sustained.”
The doctor, however, pronounced a simple fracture of the arm to be the
only damage done, and when the broken member was skilfully set, and
Mellicent was put to bed, Persis sat down and cried from sheer relief.
There was no gingerbread made that day, for Persis sat by the little
sufferer all the evening, until grandma advised her to go to her
lessons, saying that Mellicent did not need two nurses.
“Oh, dear!” said Persis, tearfully; “if I had only gone down-cellar
myself, it would never have happened. I can never forgive myself.”
“My dear child, you must not feel that way about it. We should
not blame ourselves for accidents which are not the result of
thoughtlessness nor wrong intention. Your intentions were all right,
and no one was to blame. You were not giving Mellicent work to do
beyond her strength. She was as likely to fall in going down for an
apple, or to see the new kittens; so don’t blame yourself.” Thus
grandma comforted.
Persis was much cheered by this; but she devoted every spare moment to
entertaining the invalid.
It was thought best not to spoil the pleasure of the absent ones
by telling them of this misfortune, since there was no real danger
attending it, and after a few days Mellicent rather enjoyed being the
object of commiseration, and thought she must look very interesting
with her arm in a sling made of a large silk handkerchief. She was
particular that the handkerchief should be a delicate blue, which
contrasted becomingly with her golden curls and fair skin. She was,
however, a patient little girl, and only by a pathetic expression
showed when she suffered.
The boys were most gallant, and did all manner of things to amuse her,
so that probably she did not really regret the accident any more than
Persis did.
The travellers returned in due time, and of course there was a great
chatter to be heard when the three sisters met together. Lisa had
enjoyed every minute of her visit,—so she expressed herself,—and she
told wonderful tales of the social delights Washington had to offer.
It was the day after the return of the travellers that Mellicent,
who was still housed, stood anxiously awaiting the appearance of
Persis after school, and she greeted her sister with, “I know an
awfully nice something, but I can’t tell it. Oh, Persis, you’ll be the
gladdest girl. There! I’ll let it out if I don’t stop. I heard grandma
talking to papa, and she said you had been so good and thoughtful and
self-sacrificing.” Persis was blushing furiously. “Yes, she did,”
continued Mellicent; “and then she told me a secret. No, I won’t tell;
that would spoil it all.”
But a clattering up the steps and an excited summons from Porter took
both the girls down-stairs. Porter was hopping around on one foot in a
high state of glee, while Basil was critically examining the different
parts of a shining new wheel which stood in the hall.
“Look! Look!” cried Porter. “It’s yours, Perse. See the tag, ‘Miss
Persis Holmes.’ Hurrah for you!”
“What! What!” cried Persis. “For me?”
“Yes,” certified Millicent. “And that is the secret. You can’t guess
who gave it to you—grandma.”
“Grandma!” echoed Persis.
“Yes; when she found you went for the doctor, and got him here in such
a jiffy, she gave in, I heard her say to papa; and she said you had
given up your visit so generously, and were such a comfort while they
were all away, that she wanted you to have a wheel. Isn’t it a beauty?”
“Oh, you dear, beautiful thing!” And Persis, in the exuberance of her
joy, knelt on the floor, giving the wheel a rapturous hug. “And to
think that grandma, of all people, should give it to me. Where is she?
I must thank her for it right away.” And the happy girl sped up-stairs
to where, at her sunny window filled with flowering plants, grandma sat.
Persis could hardly wait for the “come in” which answered her knock
before she burst into the room. “Oh, grandma,” she cried, “I am the
happiest girl in town! How did you come to be so dear? You don’t know
how I thank you. I never dreamed of such a thing from you.”
Grandma smiled. “Well, my child,” she confessed, “I remind myself of
my old grandfather, Judge Herrick, who used to insist that a horse
and carriage were rapid enough for him, until it came to the matter
of getting important testimony for a law-suit, and then the fastest
express train couldn’t put on too much steam for him. I hope I have
lived long enough to accept innovations gracefully when I am convinced
of their value. Not to alter an opinion often indicates obstinacy
rather than strength of character, and your grandma doesn’t want to be
called an obstinate old woman.” And grandma laughed. But Persis felt
that there was a little hint to herself hidden in the last remark, and
it had its effect in a more persuasive way than could have resulted
from any didactic lecture.
“And you don’t care if I do go off the block?” said the girl, her
speaking eyes full of happiness.
“No, dear; so long as you don’t go into the crowded streets I shall
not veto your riding anywhere that is safe. I leave that part of it
to your own good judgment. Grandma appreciates your consideration of
her too much to hamper you; for I am convinced that your father would
have given you a wheel long ago if you had been willing to set aside my
feeling in the matter.” And grandma drew the grateful girl close to her
with a gentle smile on the dear old face.
[Illustration: Decoration]