MAKING FLAXIE HAPPY.
"We _thought_, in the first place, my little sister had water on the
brain, her head was under water so long," explained Preston to the
boys; "but she has got over it now, only dreadful cross."
It was a hard time for everybody when Flaxie was cross. She tried to
sew, but her work acted "orfly;" the stitches were "cross-eyed," she
said.
"I hate my padge-work," cried she, angrily; "I hate it _dead_!"
"Then I wouldn't sew," said kind Ninny. "Come out to the shed, and I'll
swing you."
That was no better. After swinging a little while, Flaxie happened to
fall off a pile of boards, and ran into the house, crying out,--
"I swang and I swang; up real high, most up to the sky. Hurt me
_orfly_. Look at my stoggins and see'f I didn't."
"Perhaps you'd like to hear a story," said Mrs. Gray, taking the child
in her lap.
"Yes, tell me a story with a long end to it. Tell about Cindrilla."
Mrs. Gray began; and, when she got as far as this,--"Cinderella asked
her mother, and her mother said, 'No, Cinderella, you can't go to
the party,'" then Flaxie smiled. Somehow she liked to hear about
Cinderella's having a hard time: she thought she had a hard time
herself. But, when the story was half done, she wanted something else.
"You don't tell good stories, mamma. I wish you'd never been made!"
"O, how can you talk so to your good mother?" said Ninny, much shocked.
"You'd better tell a story yourself, and see if you can do better than
she does."
"Well, mamma," returned Flaxie, "do you want me to tell a story?"
"Yes."
"Does God know I'm going to tell it?"
"Yes."
"Does He know what it is?"
"Yes."
"Did He always know?"
"Yes."
"_Forever_ and always?"
"Yes."
"Well," said Flaxie, puckering up her lips, "I ain't a-goin' to tell
it; so _now_ what'll he fink?"
Mrs. Gray tried not to smile when Flaxie said such strange things about
God; but this time Ninny laughed aloud.
"Now, Ninny, you needn't laugh to me," said Flaxie. "I'm going to be
mad with you a whole week."
"What for?"
"'Cause you won't make Pep'mint Drop no boots, and _that's_ because."
"Seems to me you scold very hard at your sister," said Grandma Pressy.
"_I_ think she is a very good sister."
Ninny was standing by the sink at that very moment, washing Peppermint
Drop's stockings in a pint dipper; and Flaxie was beside her, cutting
soap.
"I know what I'll do," thought Ninny, wringing the suds from her hands.
"I'll see mamma alone, and ask her if she won't let Flaxie take my
place, and ride to New York this afternoon. Perhaps that will make her
feel better."
"And would you really like to have her go instead of you?" said Mrs.
Gray, looking at Ninny's upturned face, and thinking it was one of the
sweetest faces she had ever seen in her life.
"Yes'm, I should," said the little girl, earnestly. "I can't bear to
have her so cross; and you can't bear it, either, mamma. It almost
makes you cry."
"But will she be pleasant if she goes to ride?"
"I think so, mamma. You know she is generally pleasant when she has her
own way."
And, indeed, Flaxie's little snarled-up face smoothed in a moment when
she heard of the ride.
"I'll sit as still as a _possible_ mouse," said she, dancing about
her mamma. "I won't trouble papa one bit. Take off my _sicking_ dress,
Ninny, and put on my rosy-posy dress. Do it kick."
Was she sorry there was not room enough for Ninny,--good Ninny, who did
so much to make her happy? O, no: Flaxie herself was to have a fine
time; and that was all she thought about it.
"Let _me_ hold the reins, Dr. Papa," said she, as soon as she had
climbed into the carriage. "_I_ can make the hossy go like a tiger."
"You must sit between your mamma and me, Mary Gray, and keep still; or
I shall take you back to the house," said Dr. Papa, sternly.
"I _will_ keep still," replied Miss Frizzle, in alarm. "I'll keep as
still as a possible mouse!"
The ride was a very pleasant one. The bright dandelions were gone long
ago; but there were plenty of other flowers by the roadside, and the
birds in the trees sang gaily.
"See 'em fly 'way off up! O Dr. Papa, they touch the _ceiling_ of the
sky!" said the "possible mouse."
When they reached the city, she wanted to walk the streets by herself,
but consented to take her mother's hand. She loved the many-colored
windows and the loud noises; but she was happiest of all, when, at five
o'clock, her father and mother took her into an eating-saloon, and
called for a lunch.
She had never been in such a place before.
"I want some jelly and cake and pie and puddin' and _every thing_,"
said Flaxie, as her papa tapped the little bell.
"Dry toast for three; tea for two," said Dr. Gray to the waiter.
"But _I_ want some _nuts_," whispered Flaxie, ready to cry. She meant
doughnuts.
"Toast is all you can have," said Dr. Papa, with one of his stern looks.
But Flaxie was a bold child, as well as a bright one. She had seen
her father touch the bell and call a boy, and thought she would
do the same, and see what would happen. Out went her little hand,
_ting-a-ling_ went the silver bell, and up came the same boy.
"_Nuts for one girl!_" cried Flaxie, before her father had time to stop
her.
The waiter covered his face with his hand, and laughed; Mrs. Gray
smiled; and Dr. Gray tried to frown.
"Do let her have at least some jelly, Dr. Papa," pleaded the gentle
mother.
"Well, I see you want to spoil her! Yes, let her have some jelly," said
her father.
Ninny was sorry to see, the next day, that this ride to New York had
done Flaxie Frizzle no good. The fact was, she had caught cold, and was
sick again for nearly a week.
"My little sister has been having _conjunction_ of the lungs. I mean
she came pretty near it," said Preston to the boys. He always made the
most of it when any thing ailed Flaxie; for he was rather ashamed of
belonging to such a healthy family.
After this, the little girl was obliged to stay in the house; and of
course she made everybody unhappy.
"_Why_ can't I go ou' doors, mamma?"
"Because you have such a cold."
"Wish you never'd been _made_, mamma!"
"What a naughty, naughty girl," said Ninny.
"It's my _mamma's_ naughty! I'll have to tell her a story," said the
child. People told stories to Flaxie when _she_ was naughty; why
shouldn't she do the same thing to other people when _they_ were
naughty?
"Well," said she, folding her chubby hands, and looking as severe as
her father did sometimes,--"Well, once there was a little _good_ girl,
and her mother wanted her to stay in the house all the days; and she
staid in the house and didn't go ou' doors; and she _kep'_ a-stayin' in
the house. And you s'pose what _'came_ o' that little goorl? She staid
in the house, and staid in the house; and in two weeks she _di-ed_!"
Mrs. Gray turned away suddenly; for Flaxie was spreading her hands and
making a grieved lip, as if she pitied the "good goorl;" and it was
really too funny.
"See, dear," said Grandma Pressy, "here are some nice summer sweetings
in my work-bag. If you'll stay in the house pleasantly, all the
morning, you shall have one."
Apples were rare, for it was early in the season, and Flaxie looked
delighted.
"I'll stay _velly_ pleasantly," said she, and ran into the kitchen for
the chopping-tray, in order to chop up a few of the animals in her
Noah's ark and "make some lion hash for breakfast."
But, soon tiring of that, she came back to the sitting-room, and looked
wistfully out of the window.
"Gamma," said she, "_O_ gamma, mayn't I have a _wormy_ apple, and go
ou' doors?"
Grandma Pressy laughed, and said,--
"I think I know of something that will make you happy, little Mary. You
just go into the nursery and see what's there."
Flaxie went at once; and there, on the rug, sat Lena Vigue, fondling a
pretty Maltese kitten. Lena was the washerwoman's barefooted daughter;
and she had just brought the kitten in an old covered basket.
"O Lena, I didn't know you's here," said Miss Frizzle, dropping her
"lion hash" in a chair. "I'm glad you bringed your kitty."
"It's _your_ kitty now," sighed Lena. "I've got to leave it here."
"_My_ kitty?" cried Flaxie, clapping her hands.
"Yes; your mamma asked me to fetch it. She told me she'd give me te-en
cents if I'd fetch it," said Lena, who always spoke with a drawl.
Flaxie danced for joy.
"There, I knew you'd be happy now, Flaxie Frizzle," said Ninny, who
stood anxiously looking on.
"I hope the _kitty_'ll be happy," sighed Lena, who thought that was
far more important. "I hope you'll feed it well; it's used to it," she
added, a little proudly.
"O, yes, what do you feed it with?" asked Ninny.
"_Sour milk_," drawled the little French girl.
"I never heard of sour milk for a cat," said Ninny, when Lena had left;
"but perhaps this is a French cat."
"At any rate we'll try sweet milk first," said Mrs. Gray, smiling.
"See, she likes it, mamma," cried Flaxie, stroking the pretty creature.
"See her drink it out of her tongue."
Ninny and her mother looked at each other and smiled, as if to say,--
"How glad we both are to have Flaxie happy for a little while."
But it did not last long. Preston, who was always setting traps for
rats and mice and foxes, set a dreadful one in the shed, and caught the
kitty, which of course had to be killed. Preston was in great distress
about it.
"There, Frizzy-me-gig, _don't_ cry. John Piper is going to give me
something a great deal better than a kitten."
"What is it? O, what is it?"
"You'll see when I get it."
"Will it be my owny-dony?"
"No-o, not _yours_ exactly; but you may look at it and touch it."
Flaxie was a little comforted; for now she must try to guess what it
could be that was better than a kitten.