FLORA AN EXILE.
Flora did not wait to receive her perfumery. When Jack appeared on the
field she left it, to express her views to Dinah on the subject of bad
boys; and as Dinah had not the power of expressing her sentiments in
return, she was not disturbed by the spirit of contradiction.
When she got tired of talking to Dinah, she walked over to state her
grievance to Grandma, and to be on hand when the tarts were distributed.
Flora was not old enough to go to school. Her troubles in that direction
had not yet begun, but lunch with her was a very important matter, and
she never failed to be present when it was passed round. Grandma always
had something good ready for the children. "The dear things get so
hungry studying," she said. When she was young, three months schooling
in the winter was enough for any one.
It was early in the day for lunch, (breakfast was a little more than an
hour old), but Flora could not be put off. She did not possess the
virtue of patience. So when the children happened in as they were going
to school, she stood at the window eating her way through an enormous
tart, which had been made expressly for her: but why the Baby Pitcher
should have the largest tart, only Grandma could tell. The children came
in bringing the full odor of musk in their clothes and in their hair,
and Bertie had the little bag in his pocket. Grandma gasped and opened
all the windows, for she could not breathe the stifling air.
"Bless the dear things!" she exclaimed. "How they do smell, to be sure!"
"Smells good!" said Flora, holding out her hand for the "'fumery."
Bertie gave it to her, and as Grandma could not bear it in the house,
she was obliged to take it out of doors.
"The air is better now, isn't it, Grandma?" said Bertie, feelingly.
It was not much better, though Grandma did not say so. The small
particles were floating about, and she was inhaling them with every
breath. She passed round the tarts as speedily as possible, and then the
Little Pitchers were in a hurry to be off. But they did not carry all
the musk away; they left enough to pervade Grandma's house for several
days. But that was only a beginning. Everybody grew tired of the odor
before the skin of the musk-rat was carried away and sold. There was
musk everywhere, in doors and out; and wherever Flora was, the perfume
was sickening. But she would not give it up. She carried the little
sack, which had become dry and hard, in the pocket of her dress from
morning until night, and mamma waited in vain for her to weary of it. At
last it was banished from the house. Mamma decided that it could not
longer be endured. Flora hid it somewhere in the garden, (the place was
known only to herself and Dinah,) and every day enjoyed it as best she
could, in the open air and alone. Even Charley and Bertie were tired of
musk, and they tried first to coax and then to bribe Flora, without
success. Finally they laughed at her, and called her a little cosset.
"I ain't that," she said to Charley, who gave her the name. She always
doubted Charley. "I ain't anything but a little girl."
"And a cosset."
"No."
"You are turned out to grass, any how."
"Am I, Bertie?"
"Not exactly. We will play you are an exile."
"Well."
"She had no clear idea of an exile, nor of a cosset; but she had faith
in Bertie, and she felt that an exile must be something very nice."
"You are an exile," said Charley, "because you cannot go into Grandma's
house."
"Am I, Bertie?"
"Yes, dear."
It was true. She could not go into Grandma's house. She had to choose
between Grandma and the perfumery. But she could stay out on the
door-stone, as the musk-rat had done; and when Grandma talked to her
from the window, she was not obliged to hold a handkerchief to her
nose, as she did when the musk-rat was there. She well knew how to make
amends to the dear child for her cruelty in keeping her out of doors;
and such tempting sweetmeats passed through the window, and such
wonderful shapes of gingerbread, that Flora was very happy in her
banishment. The little exile was not wholly deprived of society, for it
happened, fortunately, that the black baby had no sense of smell.
Whether she had lost it or was born without it, Flora never knew; but
she did not possess it, and so was not annoyed by the odor that troubled
everybody else. It was not long before she was as highly perfumed as her
mistress, and could not be tolerated in the house even for a nap. The
black baby was in disgrace, and she was knocked about so roughly that
her complexion was spoiled and her fine figure very much injured. Flora
had serious thoughts of sending her to be repaired; but she wondered
how she got so many bumps. She did not know that everybody took the
liberty of tossing her out whenever she was found in doors. It was a
common thing to come upon her in unexpected places. Sometimes Flora met
her at the foot of the steps, sometimes at the bottom of the garden; and
once, after a long search, she was discovered hanging from the bough of
a tree, with arms extended as if pleading for help. Flora could not
reach her, and she was brought down from her perilous position by
Charley and a ladder.
"I don't blame her for trying to hang herself," said Charley, who saw
the housemaid when she threw her out of an upper window, "and I hope she
will have better luck next time."
"Didn't hang herself," replied Flora.
"Wanted to fly."
"Like a bird."
"She did."
"Thought she was a blackbird, may be."
"Yes," said Flora, clapping her hands and laughing, "thought she was."
"She was flying away from the musk."
"No!"
"I believe she was," said Charley, solemnly, "and if you take your eyes
off I am afraid you will lose her. You must watch her closely."
"I will."
Flora held the baby tightly in her arms, to prevent her soaring out of
sight.
"Can't fly now, Charley Waters."
"No, but you must hold on."
Flora held on tighter than ever.
"And I would not let her go into the house any more," continued Charley.
"It does not agree with her. She cannot stay in the house."
"Keep her in the garden."
"I would."
"In the arbor?"
"Yes," said Charley, after pausing to weigh the matter, "I would keep
her in the arbor."
So Dinah was forced to give up her old quarters in the house for a new
home in the arbor, and Flora informed her why the change was made. For a
time she was closely watched, but as she did not again attempt to fly
away, Flora concluded she was contented in her new situation, and, after
a while, ventured to carry her indoors occasionally. But Charley was
right. Dinah could not stay in the house. She was sure to be tossed out
by somebody, though Flora did not know that. She thought the black baby
was pining for the outer air.