THE MAJOR'S JOKE.
While Dotty was dressing next morning, she fell to thinking
again of her own importance as a young lady travelling _almost_ all
alone by herself; and then it occurred to her that Jennie Vance, the
judge's daughter, had never been any farther than Boston.
"When she comes to Portland next winter to see her aunties that live
there, then I'll talk to her all about my travelling out West. But I
needn't tell her how that baby choked, nor how that naughty Dollyphus
made fun of me. No, indeed!"
As she spoke she was pouring water into the wash-bowl; but her
indignation towards Mrs. Lovejoy and "Dollyphus" made her hand unsteady;
the pitcher came suddenly against the edge of the bowl, whereupon its
nose and part of its body flew off into space. Dotty held the handle,
and looked at the ruins in astonishment.
"Did _I_ do that?"
She had no time to spend in lamentation.
"I don't want to let my papa know what I've done," thought she, giving
the last hasty touches to her toilet: "he'll have to go and pay the man
that keeps house; and then I'm afraid he'll think, if his little girl
keeps choking folks and breaking things, I ought to stay at home."
But Dotty was too well grounded in the "white truth" to hesitate long.
She could not hide the accident and be happy. When she mentioned it to
her father, he did not say, as some fathers might have done,--
"You careless child! Your sister _Prudy_ didn't break a pitcher or lose
a pair of gloves all the way to Indiana."
He and Mrs. Parlin were both afraid that, if they spoke in this manner,
their children might infer that carelessness is just as sinful as
falsehood and ill temper; they wished them to know there is a vast
difference. So Mr. Parlin only said,--
"Broken the pitcher? I'm sorry; but you did right to tell me. Give me
your hand, and let us go to breakfast."
Major Lazelle was at table. He patted Dotty's head, and said she looked
like "a sweet-pea on tiptoe for a flight." He seemed very fond of
quoting poetry; and nothing could have been more pleasing to Dotty, who
loved to hear high-sounding words, even if they did soar above her
head.
The party of three started in due time on their journey. It was very
much the same thing it had been yesterday; boys with tea-kettles of
ice-water, boys with baskets of fruit and lozenges, and boys with
newspapers. There was a long train of cars, and every car was crowded.
"O, papa," sighed Dotty, after she had tried to count the passengers,
and had been obliged to give it up because there were so many stepping
off at every station, and so many more stepping in. "O, papa, where are
all these people going to?"
And in the afternoon she repeated the question, adding,--
"I shouldn't think there'd be anybody left in any of the houses."
By the time they reached Albany, she had seen so much of the world that
she felt fairly worn out, and her head hummed like a hive of bees.
"I didn't know, papa,--I never knew,--there were so many folks!"
The next letter Dotty had to read was from Prudy. It was merely a poem
copied very carefully. You may skip it if you like; but the major said
it was exquisite, and I think the major must have been a good judge, for
I have the same opinion myself!
"LITTLE DANDELION.
"Gay little Dandelion
Lights up the meads,
Swings on her slender foot,
Telleth her beads;
Lists to the robin's note
Poured from above;
Wise little Dandelion
Cares not for love.
"Cold lie the daisy banks,
Clad but in green,
Where in the Mays agone
Bright hues were seen;
Wild pinks are slumbering,
Violets delay;
True little Dandelion
Greeteth the May.
"Brave little Dandelion!
Fast falls the snow,
Bending the daffodil's
Haughty head low.
Under that fleecy tent,
Careless of cold,
Blithe little Dandelion
Counteth her gold.
"Meek little Dandelion
Groweth more fair,
Till dies the amber dew
Out of her hair.
High rides the thirsty sun,
Fiercely and high;
Faint little Dandelion
Closeth her eye.
"Pale little Dandelion
In her white shroud,
Heareth the angel breeze
Call from the cloud.
Fairy plumes fluttering
Make no delay;
Little winged Dandelion
Soareth away."
This night was spent at Albany; and, as the evening closed with a little
adventure I will tell you about it; and that will be all that it is
necessary to relate of Dotty's journey.
Mr. Parlin, Major Lazelle, and our heroine were sitting, after their
late tea, in a private parlor. It was time Dotty was asleep but, while
she was waiting for her papa, Major Lazelle held her on his knee. Mr.
Parlin was writing letters, and did not listen to the conversation going
on between his little daughter and her friend. They commenced by talking
about Zip. Dotty said he knew as much as a boy.
"I did think once he was my brother. And now I'm glad I didn't have a
real brother; for if he _had_ been, p'rhaps he'd have burned up our
house with a cracker."
"So you think little girls are nicer than little boys?"
"O, yes, sir; don't you?"
Dotty spoke as if there could be no doubt about it.
"I like good little girls," said Major Lazelle, "such as can ride a
whole day in the cars without growing cross."
This compliment gratified Dotty. She felt that she deserved it, for she
had kept her temper admirably ever since she left home.
"I am sure you will grow up, one of these days, to be a very good
woman," continued Major Lazelle, looking with an admiring smile at the
graceful little girl seated on his knee. "You tell me you have never
been at school. I hope you do not mean to frolic all your life? What
were little girls made for, do you think?"
Dotty reflected a moment.
"What are little girls made for, sir? Why, they are made to play,
'cause they can't play when they grow to be ladies."
The major laughed.
"Pretty well said! You're rather too shrewd for such an 'old mustache'
as I. So little girls are made to play? Then suppose we two have a game.
Let us play chip-chop."
Dotty was becoming sleepy, but aroused herself, and patted her little
soft hands as hard as she could, tossing them hither and thither,
sometimes hitting her companion's thumb, sometimes his little finger.
Major Lazelle laughed, and then she laughed too; for when he tried to
strike her hands, he said it was like aiming at a pair of rose-leaves
fluttering in the air.
The chip-chop was a complete failure; but it had set them both in great
glee. If truth be told, they became excessively rude.
"Now, sir," said Dotty, as they ran across the room, playing a game of
romps, "if you do catch me again, I'll--O, dear, I don't know what I'll
do!"
Mr. Parlin looked up from his letter a little annoyed, for the floor was
shaking so that he could scarcely write.
"Do not be rude, my daughter," said he, though he knew very well the
major was really the one to be chided.
But his warning came a minute too late. Major Lazelle had caught Dotty,
and she had thrown up both hands to clutch at his hair. She meant to
give it one desperate pulling; she did not care if she hurt him a
little; she even hoped he might cry out and beg her to stop.
But the oddest thing happened. If she had gone to bed at the usual time,
and fallen asleep, then this would have been her dream. But no, she
_supposed_ she was awake; and what now?
As she seizes two locks of Major Lazelle's hair, one in each hand, and
pulled them both as if she meant to draw them out by the roots, out they
came! Yes, entirely out! And more than that, all the rest of the man's
hair came too! His head was left as smooth as an apple.
_You_ see at once how it was. He wore a wig, and just for play had slyly
unfastened it, and allowed Miss Dotty to pull it off.
The perfect despair on her little face amused him vastly; but he did not
smile; he looked very severe.
"See what you have done!" said he, rubbing his bald head as if it were
just ready to bleed. "See what you have done to me, you cruel girl!"
Major Lazelle's entire head of hair lay at her feet as brown and wavy
as ever it was. Dotty looked at it with horror. The idea of scalping a
man!
For a whole minute she lost the power of speech. Then she gasped out,--
"O, dear! dear! dear! I didn't know your hair was so tender!"
The major had been crowding his handkerchief into his mouth; but at this
he could no longer restrain himself, nor could Mr. Parlin help joining
in the laugh.
[Illustration: THE MAJOR'S JOKE. Page 78.]
The little girl was more bewildered than ever. She put her hand to her
own head, to make sure it was safe, for it felt as airy as a dandelion
top.
Then Major Lazelle explained to her in a few words what a wig is, and
how it is fastened to the head. Dotty understood it all in a moment, but
was too much chagrined to make any reply.
"I am several years younger than your papa, my dear; so you think it
strange to see me bald; but I have had two dreadful fevers, and they
have run away with every bit of my hair."
Dotty would not even look up to see Major Lazelle replace his wig. Her
dignity had been wounded.
"Come, sit on my knee, Pussy, and let me tell you some more about it."
"No, I thank you, sir," replied she, walking the floor with the air of
an injured princess. "No, I thank you, sir."
"How, now, little one? You don't mean to be angry with me for a little
joke?"
"No, I thank you."
And that was all Dotty would say. She was wise enough to know she was
too angry to speak.
"Ah, ha! temper, I see!" thought Major Lazelle; "I did not suspect it
from that quarter."
If the young gentleman had only known how hard the little girl was
struggling just then to control herself, he would have liked her better
than ever.
Her father chided her next morning for taking a joke so seriously. Dotty
replied with a deep sigh,--
"Papa, that major 'sposes I'm only five years old! That's what Dollyphus
s'posed! I don't like it, papa, when I can travel so well; and how'd _I_
know what a wig was, well; you and mamma never had any?"
But Dotty smiled as benevolently as she could when she met the major
again. He was a little afraid of her, however. He did not enjoy playing
with her as he had enjoyed it before. He now felt obliged to be on his
guard, lest she should take offence.
The rest of her journey--though Dotty did not know it--was not quite so
delightful as it might have been if she had only laughed with good humor
when the lively major let her pull his hair out by the roots.
But the cars went "singing through the forest, and rattling over
ridges," till it was time to part from the pleasant man with a wig. Then
they went on, "shooting under arches, rambling over bridges," till Dotty
and her papa had come to their journey's end. We will say it was the
town of Quinn.