THE RAG-BAG.
Next morning there was a loud call from the three Parlins for the
rag-bag, in which Flyaway joined, though she hardly knew the
difference between a rag-bag and a paper of pins.
"I wish you to understand, girls," said Horace, flourishing his hat,
"that I'm not going to cart round any such trash for you this summer."
"Now, Horace!"
"You know, Gracie, you belong to a Girls' Rights' Society. Do you
suppose I want to interfere with your privileges?"
"Why, Horace Clifford, you wouldn't see your own sister trundling a
wheelbarrow?"
"O, no; I shan't be there," said Horace, coolly; "I shan't see you. I
promised to weed the verbena bed for your aunt Louise. Good by, girls.
Success to the rag-bag!"
"Let's catch him!" cried Susy, darting after her ungallant cousin; but
he ran so fast, and flourished his garden hoe so recklessly, that she
gave up the chase.
"Let him go," said Grace, with a fine-lady air: "who cares about
rag-bags? We've outgrown that sort of thing, you and I, Susy; let the
little girls have our share."
"Yes, to be sure," replied Susy, faintly, though not without a pang,
for she still retained a childish fondness for jujube paste, and was
not allowed a great abundance of pocket-money. "Yes, to be sure, let
the _little_ girls have our share."
"Then may we three youngest have the whole rag-bag?" said Prudy,
brightly. "Dotty, you and I will trundle the wheelbarrow, and Fly
shall go behind."
"What an idea!" exclaimed Grace. "I've seen little beggar children
drawing a dog-cart. Grandma'll never allow such a thing."
"Indeed I will," said grandma, tying on her checked apron. "Dog-carts
or wheel-barrows, so they only take care not to be rude. In a city it
is different."
"Yes, grandma," said Dotty, twisting her front hair joyfully; "but
here in the country they want little girls to have good times--don't
they? Why don't everybody move into the country, do you s'pose? Lots
of bare spots round here,--nothing on 'em but cows."
"Yes, nuffin' but gampa's cows," chimed in Flyaway, twisting _her_
front hair.
"Louisa," said Mrs. Parlin, "you may help me about this loaf of 'Maine
plum cake,' and while you are beating the butter and sugar I will look
over the rag-bag. Dotty, please run for my spectacles."
When Dotty returned with the spectacles, Jennie Vance came with her,
pouting a little at the cool reception she had met, and thinking Miss
Dimple hardly polite because she was too much interested in an old
rag-bag to pay proper attention to visitors.
"Grandma, what makes you pick over these rags? We can take them just
as they are."
"I always do so, my dear, and for several reasons. One is, that
woollen pieces may have crept in by mistake. As we profess to sell
cotton rags, it would be dishonest to mix them with woollen."
"Yes'm, I understand," said Jennie, who often spoke when it was quite
as well to keep silent; "it's always best to be honest--isn't it, Mrs.
Parlin?"
The rags were spread out upon the table, giving Flyaway a fine
opportunity to scatter them right and left.
"O, here's a splendid piece of blue ribbon to make my doll a bonnet,"
said Dotty.
"That's another reason why she picks 'em over," remarked Jennie; "so
she won't waste things. Only, Dotty, that has got an awful
grease-spot."
"There, children," said Mrs. Parlin, presently, "I have taken out a
card of hooks and eyes, a flannel bandage, and a shoe-string. You may
have everything else."
Dotty caught her grandmother's arm. "Please, grandma, don't sweep 'em
into the bag; let us look some more. I've just found a big Lisle
glove; if I can find another, then Abner can go blackberrying; he says
his hands are ever so tender."
"And you thought he was in earnest," said Prudy. "While you are
looking, I'll go into the nursery and finish that holder."
Flyaway, having climbed upon the table, had rolled herself into some
mosquito netting, like a caterpillar in a cocoon. They were all so
much interested, that grandma, in the kindness of her heart, did not
like to disturb them.
"You are welcome to all the treasures you can find, but as soon as the
cake is made I shall want the table; so be quick," said she, looking
out from the pantry, where she was beating eggs.
"Yes, indeed, grandma, we'll hurry; and may we have every single thing
we like the looks of? now, honest."
"Yes, Dotty."
Then Mrs. Parlin and Miss Louise talked about currants, and citron,
and quite forgot such trifles as rag-bags.
"Here's another big glove," said Dotty, "not the same color, but no
matter; and here are some saddle-bags, Jennie. I'm going to be a
doctor."
"Saddle-bags, Dotty! those are pockets." Jennie took them from Miss
Dimple's hands. They were held together by a narrow strip of brown
linen, and had once belonged to a pair of pantaloons.
"I'm going to see if there isn't something inside," said Jennie. "Why,
yes, here's a raisin, true's you live. And here, in the other one,--O,
Dotty!"
But Dotty had run into the nursery to show Prudy a muslin cap.
"A wad of--"
Jennie was determined to see what; so she unrolled it.
"Scrip," cried she, holding up some greenbacks.
"Skipt," echoed Flyaway, who had come out of the cocoon and gone into
the form of a mop, her head adorned with cotton fringe.
Yes; a two dollar bill and a one dollar bill, as green as lettuce
leaves. This was a great marvel. Columbus was not half so much
surprised when he discovered America.
"Mrs. Parlin, do you hear?"
But Mrs. Parlin heard nothing, for the din of the egg-beating drowned
both the shrill little voices.
A sudden idea came to Jennie. Whose money was this? Mrs. Parlin's? No;
hadn't Mrs. Parlin looked over the rags once, and said the children
might have what was left? "'You are welcome to all the treasures you
can find;' that was what she said," repeated Jennie to herself. "I'm
the one that found this treasure,--not Dotty, not Flyaway. This is
honest, and I do not lie when I say it."
Jennie began to tremble, and a hot color flew into her cheeks, and
added new lustre to her black eyes. "If I could only make Flyaway
forget it," thought she, with a whirling sensation of anger towards
the innocent child, who knew no better than to proclaim aloud every
piece of news she heard. "I'll make her forget it." Jenny hastily
concealed the money in the neck of her dress.
"Where's that skipt? that skipt?" said Flyaway.
"Fly Clifford," said Jennie, severely, "you've climbed on the table!
Just think of it! Your grandmother doesn't allow you on her table.
What made you get up here."
"'Cause," replied Flyaway, seizing the kitty by the tail, and
thrusting her into a cabbage-net, "'cause I fought best."
"But you must get right down, this minute."
"No," said Flyaway, shaking her head-dress of white fringe with great
solemnity; "I isn't goin' to get down."
"Ah, but you must."
Flyaway opened and shut her eyes slowly, in token of deep displeasure.
"I don't never 'low little girls to scold to me," said she. "You'd
better call grandma; 'haps _she_ can make me get down."
But it was not Jennie's purpose to wait for that; she seized the
little one roughly by the arms, pulled her from the table, and hurried
her into the parlor.
Flyaway was indignant. "Does you--feel happy?" said she, with a
reproachful glance at Jennie.
"There, look out of the window, Flyaway, darling, and watch to see if
Horace isn't coming in from the garden."
"Can't Hollis come, 'thout me watching him?" returned Flyaway, winking
slowly again, for her sweet little soul was stirred with wrath. The
memory of the "skipt" had indeed been driven away, and she could only
think,--
"Isn't Jennie so easy fretted! I wasn't doin' nuffin'; and then she
jumped me right down. Unpolite gell! that's one thing."
And Jennie was thinking, "She never'll remember the money now, or, if
she does, I don't believe Mrs. Parlin will pay any attention to what
she says." Jennie was still very much excited, and wondered why she
trembled so.
"I don't mean to keep it unless it's perfectly proper," thought she;
"I guess I know the eighth commandment fast enough. I shan't keep it
unless Dotty thinks best. I'll tell her, and see what she says."
Jennie had often pilfered little things from her mother's cupboard,
such as cake and raisins; but a piece of money of the most trifling
value she had never thought of taking before.
Leaving Flyaway busy with block houses, she ran to the nursery door,
and motioned with her finger for Dotty to come out.
"What is it?" said Dotty, when they were both shut into the china
closet; "don't you want my sister Prudy to know?"
Jennie replied, in a great flutter, "No, no, no. You musn't tell a
single soul, Dotty Dimple, as long as you live, and I'll give you
half."
"Half what?"
Jennie produced the money from her bosom, feeling, I am glad to say,
very guilty. "Out o' those saddle-bag pockets out there," added she,
breathlessly; "true's the world."
"Why, Jennie Vance!"
"One had a raisin in and a button, and nobody but me would have
thought of looking. You wouldn't--now would you? My father says I've
got such sharp eyes!"
"H'm!" said Dotty, who considered her own eyes as bright as any
diamonds; "you took the saddle-bag right out of my hand. How do you
know I shouldn't have peeked in?"
Jennie did not reply, but smoothed out the wrinkled notes with many a
loving pat.
"What did grandma say?" asked Dotty; "wasn't she pleased?"
"Your grandmother doesn't know anything about it, Dotty Dimple; what
business is it to her?"
Jennie's tone was defiant. She assumed a courage she was far from
feeling.
Dotty was speechless with surprise, but her eyes grew as round as
soap-bubbles.
"The pockets don't belong to her, Dotty, and never did. They never
came out of any of her dresses--now did they?"
Dotty's eyes swelled like a couple of bubbles ready to burst.
"Jennie Vance, I didn't know you's a thief."
"You stop talking so, Dotty. She was going to sweep everything into
the rag-bag--now wasn't she? And this money would have gone in too, if
it hadn't been for my sharp eyes--now wouldn't it?"
"But it isn't yours, Jennie Vance--because it don't belong to you."
"Now, Dotty--"
"You go right off, Jennie Vance, and carry it to my grandma this
minute."
The tone of command irritated Jennie. She had not felt at all decided
about keeping the money, but opposition gave her courage. Her temper
and Dotty's were always meeting and striking fire.
"It isn't your grandma's pockets, Miss Parlin. If it was the last word
I was to speak, it isn't your grandmother's pockets!"
"Jane Sidney Vance!"
"You needn't call me by my middle name, and stare so at me, Dotty
Dimple. I was going to give you half!"
"What do I want of half, when it isn't yours to give?" said Dotty,
gazing regretfully at the money, nevertheless. Three dollars! Why, it
was a small fortune! If it only did really belong to Jenny!
"Your grandmother said everything we liked the looks of, Dotty. Don't
you like the looks of this?"
"But you know, Jennie--"
"O, you needn't preach to me. You wasn't the one that found it. If I'd
truly been a thief, or if I hadn't been a thief, it would have been
right for me to keep it, and perfectly proper, and not said a word to
you, either; so there."
"Jennie Vance, I'm going right out of this closet, and tell my grandma
what you've said."
"Wait, Dotty Dimple; let me get through talking. I meant to buy things
for your grandmother with it. O, yes, I did--a silk dress, and cap,
and shoes."
Dotty twirled her hair, and looked thoughtful.
"Of course I did. Wouldn't it surprise her, when she wasn't expecting
it? And Flyaway, too,--something for her. We wouldn't keep anything
for ourselves, only just enough to buy clothes and such things as we
really need."
Before Dotty had time to reply there was a loud scream from the
parlor.
"Fly is killed--she is killed!" cried Dotty; but Jennie had presence
of mind enough to tuck the bills into the neck of her dress.
"Don't you tell anybody a word about it, Dotty. If you tell I'll do
something awful to you. Do you hear?"
Dotty heard, but did not answer. The fate of her cousin Flyaway seemed
more important to her just then than all the bank-bills in the world.