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A SWEET LITTLE MAID
BY
AMY E. BLANCHARD
Author of "Little Miss Oddity," "Little Miss Mouse,"
"Little Sister Anne," "Mistress May," etc.
NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
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Copyright, 1899,
by GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO
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To
MY DEAR LITTLE GODDAUGHTER
AGNES BLANCHARD WILLIAMS
I LOVINGLY DEDICATE THIS STORY OF ANOTHER
SWEET LITTLE MAID
A. E. B.
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CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. DIMPLE AND BUBBLES 9
II. DOLLS 26
III. A QUARREL 44
IV. HOUSEBREAKERS 62
V. ROCK 81
VI. THE TEA-PARTY 97
VII. HOUSEKEEPERS 119
VIII. ADRIFT 139
IX. DOWN TOWN 158
X. THE PICNIC 177
XI. AN UNCLE AND A WEDDING 196
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CHAPTER I
Dimple and Bubbles
"Is yuh asleep, Miss Dimple?"
"No," said Dimple, drowsily.
"I'm are."
"Why, Bubbles," replied Dimple, "if you were asleep you wouldn't be
talking."
"Folks talks in their sleep sometimes, Miss Dimple," answered Bubbles,
opening her black eyes.
"Well, maybe they do, but your eyes are open now."
"I have heerd of people sleepin' with their eyes open," returned
Bubbles, nothing abashed.
"O, Bubbles, I don't believe it; for that is how to go to sleep; mamma
says, 'shut your eyes and go to sleep,' she never says, 'open your eyes
and go to sleep;' so there!"
Bubbles sat thoughtfully looking at her toes, having nothing to say when
Dimple brought her mamma into the question.
"I'll tell you what, Bubbles," said Dimple, after a moment's pause,
rising from the long grass where the two had been sitting. "Let's play
Indian. You make such a lovely Indian, just like a real one. I am almost
afraid of you when you are painted up, and have feathers in your head."
Bubbles grinned at the compliment.
"I will be the white maiden to be captured," said Dimple, as Bubbles
coolly proceeded to take off her frock, displaying a red flannel
petticoat.
"I'll hunt up the feathers, and you get ready," Dimple went on. "And the
shawl--we must have the striped shawl for a blanket," and, running into
the house, she soon came out with a little striped shawl, and a handful
of stiff feathers. The shawl was arranged over Bubbles' shoulders, and
produced a fine effect, when the feathers were stuck in her head.
"Now if you could only have the hatchet. You go get it, Bubbles."
"I dassent," said Bubbles.
"Oh yes, you dare," Dimple said, coaxingly. "I'd go ask mamma, but it is
so hot and I've been in the house once."
"'Deed, Miss Dimple"--Bubbles began.
"Don't you 'deed me. I tell you to go and I mean it. I'll send you to
the orphan asylum, if you don't, and I wonder how you will like that; no
more cakes, no more chicken and corn-bread for you, Miss Bubbles. Mush
and milk, miss."
This dreadful threat had its desired effect, and Bubbles' bare black
legs went scudding through the grass, and were back in a twinkling.
"Hyah it is," she said. "I was skeered, sho' 'nough."
"Oh well, you are a goose," said Dimple. "Who ever heard of an Indian
being scared at a hatchet? Now I will go into the woodshed--that is my
house, you know--and you must skulk softly along, and when you get to
the door bang it open with the hatchet, and give a whoop."
So Dimple went in her house and shut the door, fearfully peeping through
the cracks once in a while, as the terrible foe crept softly nearer and
nearer, then with a terrific yell burst in.
"Please, Mr. Indian, don't scalp me."
"Ugh!" said the Indian.
"What shall I do?" said Dimple. "Make me take off my stockings and
shoes, Bubbles. You know the captives must go barefooted."
"Ugh!" said the Indian, pointing to Dimple's feet.
"My shoes and stockings? Well, I will give them to you," and she quickly
took them off. The Indian gravely tied them around his neck, and taking
Dimple by the hand he led her forth in triumph.
But here a disaster followed, for the captive, thinking it her duty to
struggle, knocked the hatchet out of the Indian's hand, and it fell with
its edge on Dimple's little white foot, making a bad gash.
"Oh, you've killed me, sure enough," she cried. "Oh, you wicked, wicked
thing!"
Poor Bubbles cried quite as hard as she, and begged not to be sent to
the orphan asylum.
"Oh! your mother will whip me," she cried. "I 'spect I ought to be
killed, but 'deed I didn't mean to, Miss Dimple; I wisht it had been my
old black foot."
"I wish it had," sobbed Dimple. "Oh, I am bleeding all to nothing! Take
me to mamma, Bubbles!"
Bubbles stooped down and, being a little larger and stronger, managed to
carry her to the house.
Dimple's mamma was horrified when they appeared at her door. Bubbles in
war-paint and feathers, carrying the little barefooted girl, from whose
foot blood was dropping on the floor.
"What on earth is the matter? Oh, Dimple! Oh, Bubbles! What have you
been doing?"
But Bubbles was so overcome by terror, and Dimples by the sight of the
blood, that neither could explain till the foot was washed and bandaged.
Then poor Bubbles flung herself on the floor and begged not to be sent
to the orphan asylum.
"You ridiculous child," said Dimple's mamma. "Of course you ought to be
careful, but it is not your fault any more than Dimple's. She should not
have sent you for the hatchet. I am very sorry for my little Dimple; it
is not so very serious, but she will not be able to walk for several
days. Next time you want to play Indian, do without a hatchet. Put on
your frock, Bubbles, and go into the kitchen, for I'm sure I heard Sylvy
call you."
Bubbles went meekly out and Dimple was soon asleep on the sofa.
Bubbles' real name was Barbara. She was the child of a former servant
who went away, leaving her, when she was about five years old, with Mrs.
Dallas; as the mother never came back, and no one could tell of her
whereabouts, Bubbles gradually became a fixture in Dimple's home.
Dimple, when she was just beginning to talk, tried hard to say Barbara,
but got no nearer to it than Bubbles, and Bubbles the little darkey was
always called.
Dimple herself was called so from the deep dimple in one cheek. Every
one knew her by her pet name, and most persons forgot that her name ever
was Eleanor.
She and Bubbles were devoted comrades. Bubbles would cheerfully have let
Dimple walk over her and never forgot to call her _Miss_ Dimple, thereby
expressing her willingness to serve her.
Dimple was the dearest little girl in the world, but considering Bubbles
her special property, made her do pretty much as she pleased, and her
most dreadful threat was to send her to the orphan asylum.
She had once said, "Mamma, if you hadn't let Bubbles stay here, where
would you have sent her?"
"To the orphan asylum, I suppose," her mamma answered; and Bubbles,
hearing it, was ever after in mortal terror of the place, for Dimple
gave her a graphic description of it, telling her she would never have
anything to eat but mush and milk.
Dimple's foot did not get well as fast as she expected, and the little
girl found it rather tiresome to lie on a lounge all day, although her
mamma read to her, and tried to amuse her. Bubbles, too, was as obedient
a nurse as could be, and, because she had been the cause of the
accident, considered it her first and only duty to wait on Dimple.
"Mamma," said Dimple, "for a colored girl, Bubbles is the nicest I ever
saw; but indeed, I should like a white girl to play with, just for a
change. Couldn't you get me one?"
"Perhaps so," said her mamma. "We will see what can be done."
"Good-bye, little girl," said her papa the next morning. "I am going
away and will not be back till to-morrow. What shall I bring you? A new
doll?"
"Oh, please, papa; and papa a white girl if you can get one that is real
nice, something the same kind of girl that I am."
"A girl like you would be hard to find, I think," said he, laughing,
"but I'll inquire around and see if there is one to be had."
Bubbles looked very sober all day, and rolled her eyes around at Dimple
in such a reproachful way that finally she said:
"I know just what you think, Bubbles. You believe I am going to send you
to the orphan asylum and get a white girl, but I am not at all. If I get
a white girl I shall want you all the same, because you will have to
wait on her too."
Bubbles' face lighted up, as she said,
"'Deed, cross my heart, Miss Dimple, I didn't fo' sure think yuh was
gwine to send me off, but I tuck and thought yuh was conjurin' up
somethin' agin me."
"Why, Bubbles, I wouldn't do such a thing, unless you were out and out
bad. It has been such a long day," she said, turning to her mamma. "When
will it be to-morrow?"
Mrs. Dallas drew up a little table, and Bubbles brought Dimple's best
set of dishes, and with a clean cloth spread on first, the dishes were
arranged. Then Bubbles brought in a little dish of chicken, a glass of
jelly, light rolls, little cakes, a pitcher of milk, tea, sugar, and
butter; and then Mrs. Dallas said,
"We will have our supper together, because papa is away, and Bubbles can
wait on us here."
Bubbles had disappeared, but presently came back with a bunch of roses,
which she put in the middle of the table.
"Why, Bubbles, that is quite fine," said Dimple, and she ate her supper
with a relish; after which, the time seemed very short until to-morrow,
for she was soon asleep.
"I believe this day is long too," she said, toward the afternoon of the
next day. "When will papa come?"
"Not till six o'clock," replied her mamma. "You must try to be patient,
for I think you will be very glad when he gets here. I have sent Bubbles
for a book, and I will read to you, to pass the time away."
Six o'clock came at last, and soon after Dimple heard her papa's voice
in the hall.
"Come right up," she heard him say.
"I do believe he has brought the white girl," she said, clasping her
hands; and, to be sure, when he opened the door, some one was behind
him.
"This is the nearest like you I could get," he said, and led forward
some one in a grey frock and hat.
Dimple screamed, "Why, it is Florence. Oh! papa, you didn't say you were
going to auntie's!"
"No. I wanted to surprise you," he replied. "And I thought your own
cousin ought to be more like you than any one else."
"Well, I am delighted. You are sure to stay a long, long time, Florence.
Take off your hat and sit right here," she said, moving up on the
lounge. "I never had such a surprise."
"You forgot I promised a doll, too," said her papa, as he opened a
package. "I thought Florence would like one, so I brought two, as near
alike as if they were cousins," he added.
"Oh! you preciousest papa," said Dimple; "let me hug you all to pieces.
I do think you are the most delightful man. I don't wonder mamma
married you. When you go down please send Bubbles up here, so I can tell
her I am almost glad she cut my foot, for it is worth it, to have
Florence and a new doll too."
Bubbles came in beaming.
"Bubbles," cried Dimple, "see Florence and our new dolls,--and Bubbles,
you shall have one of my old ones,--and Bubbles, when I grow up, you
shall live with me always, because you cut my foot, and you must never,
never think of the orphan asylum again.
"Now, tell me, Florence," she said, turning to her, "all about your
coming. Didn't you have to get ready in a hurry?"
"Yes, indeed," replied Florence, "and, oh Dimple, I was so glad when
uncle asked mamma and she said 'yes,' and she just packed up my things
in a jiffy, and we stopped at papa's office, and said good-bye to him,
and uncle bought me oranges and papers on the cars, and we didn't seem a
bit long coming."
"Well, I am too glad," returned Dimple. "Won't we have fun with the
dolls? O, Florence, do eat your supper up here with me instead of going
downstairs."
"Of course," said Florence, "unless you would rather go down, for uncle
said he would carry you."
"I know," said Dimple, "but it is more fun to have it up here with my
tea-set, and Bubbles to wait on us."
So they had their tea upstairs, with the table set by the window, where
the wistaria peeped in to look at them, and a little brown bird, quite
envious, put his head on one side, and stood on the sill a full minute
before he flew away.
"Oh! I think it is just lovely here," said Florence. "Ever so much nicer
than at our house."
"Do you think so?" said Dimple, quite pleased. "You have a lovely house,
though, Florence; it is four stories high, and has such beautiful things
in it, and when you look out of the windows there is so much to see,
carriages, and people all dressed up."
"Yes, and dirty old beggars and ragmen," said Florence, "and nasty,
muddy streets."
They both laughed.
"What cunning little doylies," said Florence. "Who worked the little
figures on them?"
"Mamma," said Dimple. "Aren't they sweet? She always sends them up with
my supper, one over the milk pitcher, and one over the cake. Do you like
lots of sugar in your tea, Florence?"
"Two lumps."
"Only two! Why I like three, and I believe I could take another; mamma
says I have a sweet tooth, but I don't know where it is, for I have put
my tongue on all of them and they all taste alike. Bubbles, go down and
ask mamma if we mayn't have a little teensy-weensy bit more honey, we
are both so hungry."
Bubbles took the little glass dish, and went off.
"I wish I had a Bubbles," said Florence. "We have a black man, but I
think a little girl is ever so much nicer; then there is nurse, she
takes us to walk; and then there is Kate, the cook, and Lena, the
chambermaid, they are always fussing and quarreling. I get tired of so
many."
"We only have Sylvy and Bubbles," said Dimple. "Sylvy is black too; she
is real nice but she will get mad with Bubbles sometimes. Bubbles
cleans knives, and runs errands, sets the table, wipes the dishes, and
is a lot of help. You don't know how much she can do, and she learns
something new every little while. Have some more honey, Florence, for
that piece of bread. I never can come out even; sometimes I have to take
more bread for the honey, and then more honey for the bread, till I do
eat so much. Have you finished? I believe I have too."
"It is _so_ nice here," said Florence, as they settled themselves after
their tea, "just delicious. It is so much pleasanter to see green grass,
and trees, and flowers, than brick walls, and pavements. Do you play out
of doors much?"
"Yes, all day, nearly; but I haven't since my foot was hurt. I couldn't
run about, and I should have to wait for some one to bring me in; then I
always want to be close to mamma when anything is the matter with me.
Are you that way?"
"Yes," said Florence. "Aren't mammas the best thing in the world? I hope
mine doesn't miss me."
"Now, Florence, don't get homesick, for I shall be distressed if you do.
Let's talk about the dolls. Here comes mamma. We will ask her what we
can dress them in.
"Mamma, mamma, did you see our beauty dolls? Won't you get out your
reserve bag to-morrow? I have looked over my piece box so much, and it
would be perfectly splendid to have something I had never seen before."
"What is a reserve bag?" asked Florence.
"Why, you see," said Dimple, "mamma has a lot of bags, one for silk
pieces, and one for white pieces, and one for pieces like our frocks,
and so on, but the nicest is the one she keeps for occasions, like
Christmas and birthdays and fairs, and there are the prettiest bits of
velvet and silk in it. Mamma, bring out your reserve bag, that is a
lovely blue-eyed mamma," said Dimple, coaxingly.
"You are very complimentary," said her mamma, laughing. "If you won't
tease or worry me, to-morrow I will bring it out and you can each choose
what you want."
"Oh! mamma, you are lovelier and more blue-eyed than ever," said Dimple,
"let us both kiss you. We will be good as gold, won't we, Florence?"
"Yes, indeed," said she. "Auntie, you are lovely."
"I think if you don't go to bed," said Mrs. Dallas, "you will keep me
awake all night with your flattery."
"Florence is to sleep with me, isn't she, mamma?"
"Certainly, and the sooner you go, the sooner it will be to-morrow."
"Well, we will go now. See me ride, Florence," said Dimple, as her mamma
put her in a rocking-chair and pushed the chair along through the door
into Dimple's little blue and white room.
It was a dear little room, and Dimple, with the help of Bubbles, took
care of it all herself.
There was a white curtained window around which roses and honeysuckle
grew, and threw their tendrils about in a such a reckless way, that one
or two had made up their minds to live in the room instead of outdoors,
and were climbing around the window sash.
A little brass bedstead, a mantel with a blue and white lambrequin, a
blue and white toilet set, pretty pictures on the wall, and a small
bookshelf, made a very cozy looking nest for a little girl, and so
Florence thought, who had no room of her own, but slept with an older
sister.
They were both tired, and even the delightful topic of dolls could not
keep them awake very long, for a half hour later when the moon looked in
on her way across the sky, she saw them both sound asleep, an auburn
head on Florence's pillow, and a yellow one on Dimple's.