MAKING CALLS.
Not very long after this, Mrs. Gray, came back to Rosewood with Flaxie
and the dear rescued baby whom everybody was eager to see, for,--
"They loved him more and more.
Ah, never in their hearts before,
Was love so lovely born."
And Ninny cried as she took him in her arms, and said,--
"He doesn't look as he used to, does he, papa? His eyes are _very_
different."
"You think that because we came so near losing him," replied Dr. Papa.
Baby Philip looked round upon them all with "those deep and tender
twilight eyes," which seemed to be full of sweet meanings; but I must
confess that he was thinking of nothing in the world just then but his
supper.
The travellers had not been home a week before Grandpa Pressy sent for
Ninny to go and make him and grandma a visit, and this left Flaxie
Frizzle rather lonesome; for Preston did not care to play with girls
when he could be with Bert Abbott. Besides, he and his cousin Bert were
uncommonly busy about this time, getting up a pin-show in Dr. Gray's
barn.
So Flaxie's mamma often let her run over to Aunt Jane Abbott's to see
Lucy and Rose. I have not told you before of these cousins, because
there have been so many other things to talk about that I have not had
time. Lucy was a black-eyed little gipsy, and Rose was a sweet little
creature, you could never see without wanting to kiss.
Just now Aunt Jane had a lively young niece from Albany spending the
fall with her, named Gussie Ricker. One day, when Flaxie Frizzle was at
Aunt Jane's, Gussie proposed that Flaxie and Lucy should make a call
upon a little girl who was visiting Mrs. Prim.
"O, yes," said Lucy, "we truly must call on Dovey Sparrow. She has
frizzly curls like Flaxie's, and she can play five tunes on the piano.
But, Gussie, how do you make calls?"
"O," replied Miss Gussie, with a twinkle in her eye, "all sorts of
ways. Sometimes we take our cards; but it isn't really necessary for
little girls to do that. Then we just touch the lady's hand,--this
way,--and talk about the weather; and, in three minutes or so, we go
away."
"I've seen calls a great many times," said Flaxie Frizzle,
thoughtfully. "I can make one if Lucy will go with me."
"I could make one better alone," said Lucy, in a very cutting tone. She
was two years older than Flaxie, and always remembered it.
"I'll go wiv you, Flaxie, if Lucy doesn't," put in little Rose, the
sweet wee sister; and then it was Flaxie's turn to be cutting, for as
it happened she was just two years older than Rose.
"Poh," said she; "_you_ can't do calls, a little speck of a thing
like you! You don't grow so much in a year as my thumb grows in five
minutes!"
Rose hid her blushing face in the rocking-chair.
"Do you truly think we'd better go, Gussie?" asked Lucy; for Gussie was
laughing, and Lucy did not like to be made fun of, though she did make
fun of Flaxie Frizzle.
"O, certainly," said Gussie, trying to look very sober; "don't I always
say what I mean?"
So, as they were going, Lucy took Flaxie one side that afternoon and
instructed her how to behave.
"Dovey came from Boston, and we never saw her only in church; so I
s'pose we _must_ carry cards."
"Where'll we get 'em?"
"O, my mamma has plenty, and so has Gussie. I know Gussie would be glad
to lend me her silver card-case that Uncle William gave her; she wants
me to be so polite! But I don't dare ask her, so I guess I'll borrow it
without asking."
"Hasn't somebody else got a gold one that _I_ could borrow?" asked Miss
Frizzle, looking rather unhappy as the pretty toy dropped into Lucy's
pocket.
"O, it's no matter about _you_; you don't need a card-case, for I shall
be with you to take care of you," returned Lucy, as they both stood in
Mrs. Abbott's guest-chamber before the tall looking-glass. "Do tell me,
Flaxie, does my hat look polite? I mean is it style enough?"
"It's as style as mine," replied Flaxie, gazing into the glass with
Lucy. How pretty she thought Lucy was, because her eyes were black and
her hair was dark and didn't "friz!"
"I wish I wasn't a 'tow-head,' and I wish I was as tall as you!" sighed
she.
"Well, _you_ don't care," said Lucy, graciously. "You'll grow. You're
just as good as I am if you only behave well. You mustn't run out your
tongue, Flaxie: it looks as if you were catching flies. And you mustn't
sneeze before people: it's very rude."
"I heard _you_ once, Lu Abbott, and it was in church too!"
"O, then 'twas an accident; you must scuse accidents. And now," added
Lucy, giving a final touch to her gloves, "I want you to notice how I
act, Flaxie Frizzle, and do just the same; for my mother has seen the
President and yours hasn't."
"Well, my mamma's seen an elephant," exclaimed Flaxie, with spirit;
"and she has two silk dresses and a smelling-bottle."
"Poh! my cousin Gussie's got a gold watch, and some nightly blue
sirreup. Uncle William gives her lots of things; but I shouldn't think
of telling o' that! Now, do you know what to do when anybody _induces_
you to strangers?"
"What you s'pose?" replied Flaxie, tartly. "I speak up and say 'Yes'm.'"
Lucy laughed, as if she were looking down, down from a great hight upon
her little cousin.
"And shake hands, too," added Flaxie, quickly, for fear she had made a
mistake.
"No, you give three fingers, _not_ your hand. Just as if you were
touching a toad. And you raise your eyebrows up,--_this_ way,--and
quirk your mouth,--so,--and nod your head.
"'How d'ye do, Miss Dovey Sparrow? It's a charr-rming day. Are they all
well at Boston?' You'll see how _I'll_ do it, Flaxie! Then I shall take
out my hang-verchief and shake it, so the sniff of the nightly blue
sirreup will _waft_ all round the room.--O, I've seen 'em!
"Then I shall wipe my nose--this way--and sit down. I've seen young
ladies do it a great many times."
"So've I," chimed in Flaxie Frizzle, admiring her cousin's fine
graces. Such tiptoeing and courtesying and waving of hands before the
looking-glass. How did Lucy manage it so well?
"And, if people have plants," continued Lucy, "then you say, '_How_
flagrant!' And, if people have children, you say, '_What_ darlings!'
and pat their hair, and ask, 'Do you go to school, my dear?'"
"They've said that to me ever so many times; and I've got real sick of
it," remarked Flaxie.
"And they keep calling every thing char-ar-ming and bee-you-oo-tiful!
with such tight gloves on, I know their fingers feel choked!"
"I spect we ought to go," said Flaxie, tired of all this instruction.
"I don't believe you know how to behave, Lu Abbott. You never made any
calls, more'n I did."
As they went through the hall, Flaxie thought she would "borrow" Aunt
Jane's lace veil; but Lucy did not observe this till they had started
off. They tripped along the roadside, past Mr. Potter's store, past
the church, their feet scarcely touching the grass. Lucy felt like a
princess royal till they reached Mrs. Prim's beautiful grounds, and
then her heart fluttered a little. She had a sudden longing to run home
and get Gussie to come back with them.
"Pull the bell," said she to Flaxie. Flaxie pulled so hard that her
veil flew off, and she had to chase it several rods.
"Put it in your pocket, you awful child," exclaimed Lucy, as Kitty
Maloney, the kitchen girl, opened the door in alarm, thinking something
dreadful had happened.
"Why, bless my soul, if 'tisn't Docther Gray's little snip of a Mary.
And who's this? Why, it's Miss Abbott's little gee-url. Anybody sick?"
Now was the time for Miss Frizzle's courage to come up. She stepped in
front of the frightened Lucy, and exclaimed, boldly,--
"I'm Flaxie Frizzle, you know, and this is my cousin. We want to see
Dovey Sparrow."
As Flaxie spoke, Lucy tremblingly drew out her card-case.
"Yes, she's in. She and Miss Prim has just come from ridin'. Will ye
walk in?" said Katy, _very_ respectfully.
"Please give her these," faltered Lucy, placing in Kitty's hands two
cards, one bearing the name, "Augusta L. Ricker," the other a few words
in pencil, which somebody must have written for a memorandum:--
"Kerosene oil.
Vanilla.
Oatmeal soap."
Kitty stared at the cards, then at the exquisite Lucy, and suddenly put
her calico apron up to her face.
"Will ye wait till I give her the kee-ards, young ladies, or will ye
come in the parlor now?" said she, in a stifled voice.
Flaxie Frizzle concluded to walk in; and Lucy, who was now nothing but
Flaxie's shadow, followed her in silence.
Kitty Maloney disappeared; and, in about a minute, Dovey Sparrow
tripped in, blushing and looking as frightened as a wood-pigeon. The
roguish Kitty had just told her that her little visitors were very
ginteel folks, and she must talk to 'em as if she was reading it out of
a book.
Meantime Kitty was hiding in the back parlor, with her apron over her
mouth, forgetting her potato yeast in her curiosity to watch these fine
young ladies.
Flaxie rose and shook hands, but entirely forgot to speak. Lucy did the
same.
"H'm," said Flaxie, snapping the card-case, which she had taken from
Lucy.
"Yes'm," responded Dovey, trembling.
It was getting rather awkward.
Flaxie wiped her nose, and so did Miss Lucy. Then Flaxie folded her
arms; also Lucy.
Poor Miss Dovey tried to think of a speech grand enough to make to
these wise little people; but the poor thing could not remember any
thing but her geography lessons.
Flaxie Frizzle was also laboring in vain. The only thing that came into
_her_ head was a wild desire to sneeze.
At last, her eye chancing to rest on the crimson trimmings of Dovey's
dress, she was suddenly reminded of turkeys and their dislike of red
things. So she cried out in despair,--
"Do you keep a turkey at your house?"
O, strange question!
"Does your papa keep sheep?" chimed in Lucy.
"We don't keep a thing!" replied Dovey, in great surprise at these
remarkable speeches; "nor a dog either."
Then Flaxie Frizzle, growing bolder and bolder, came out brilliantly
with this:--
"You got any _trundlebeds_ to Boston?"
This was too much; the ice was beginning to crack.
"Why, Flaxie Frizzle!" said Lucy; and then she laughed.
"Look at that clock on the bracket! Why, what are you laughing at,
girls?"
"O, how funny!" cried Flaxie Frizzle, dancing out of her chair.
"Do stop making me shake so!" said Miss Dovey, dropping to the floor,
and rocking back and forth.
"O, ho," screamed Lucy, hopping across the rug, "you don't look like a
bird any more'n I do, Dovey Sparrow."
They were all set in a very high gale by this time.
"Be still," said Flaxie Frizzle, holding up both hands. "There, now, I
had a sneeze; but, O, dear, I can't sneeze it!"
"You're just like anybody, after all," tittered the sparrow. "Don't
you want to go out and jump on the hay?"
"Well, there," replied Miss Lucy, rolling her gloves into a ball, "you
never asked us to take our things off, you never!"
"I didn't want you to," said Dovey; "you scared me half to death!"
"Did we?" cried Lucy, in delight. "Well, I never was so 'fraid my own
self. You ought to heard my heart beat when we rang that bell."
"Me, too," said Flaxie Frizzle.
"But you're such a darling, though," pursued Lucy, kissing her new
friend warmly. "I'm _glad_ you don't know how to behave!"
"I'm glad you don't, either," said Dovey, tilting herself on a rocker
like a bird on a bough, "I thought you were going to be, _O_, so
polite, for you set Kitty all of a tremble. Come, let's go out and
play."
"So we will. Come along, Flaxie Frizzle."
"What! is that Flaxie Frizzle? O, I always did want to see Flaxie
Frizzle. Mrs. Prim has told me lots about her," said Dovey, as they
skipped out to the barn.
You may be sure Lucy lost the "borrowed" card-case in the hay; and,
when it was found, weeks afterward, it bore the marks of horse's teeth;
but Gussie said,--
"It is good enough for me; I ought not to have filled the children's
heads with such nonsense."
I am happy to state that Aunt Jane's veil,--a beautiful lace
one,--reached home safely, and that this was the last fashionable call
Lucy and Flaxie Frizzle ever made.